Orange clouds merge with the sun-filled spaces amidst leaf shadows on the wall
And our whole world becomes one gooey ember
Everywhere you look, the light is falling and even
You have to say goodbye to the second-hand embarrassment
from Instagram comedians doing fake African accents,
And to the news of your neighbour’s death,
the meme your lover whom you’ve never met DM-d you,
And the pad that could not soak all your blood.
Goodbye to the many potted plants gestating your tomorrow’s breath,
to Solange crooning about the cranes in the sky,
to your red Birkenstocks grateful for all the steps it has taken with you
And to that yellow curtain tired of the wind’s insult
Even to the colour white and how it rinses the rainbow
Or the prism, depending on who is holding the sun,
you have to say goodbye.
Now the day is closing shop,
the 70% water of your body is lapping up
the moon who is now washing the day’s sweat off the sky.
Tomorrow, is another day.
a 2017 Apples and Snakes Writing Room fellow and has poems and short stories previously published in Kalahari Review, Brittle Paper and Arts and Africa.