in the beginning it was always different.
it's night and i'm up so i'm down for it.
he says your freedom ends where my nose
begins so i hit him back after he squeezes
orange rinds into my eyes and i watch my knuckles
for freedom like guns look at smoke for mercy.
my only plan for the future is to remember
something that reminds me of something else
like i remember your eyes warped in the rain
which reminds me of the black buttons i lost
in the sandpit when he tore my shirt open.
it's just a game, he said. be a sport, he said.
so i became a cricket. it's better to be a metaphor
of boredom, i say to her, as the commander of
phew, over a bottle of sula, than be bored through.
she takes a swig of laughter. but i wasn't ready
for the future where she tells me what the rain
made her remember and what that reminds her of.
when we say in the beginning it was different
we mean begin again and it'll be different.
~ ajay
29/3/2024
first appeared in JMWW (ext link)
