I am pregnant with mirrors.
A midwife puts my newborns in my arms
And they are the terrifying shape of my country,
Reflect on this.
Its umbilical tube unsevered,
Still feeding on my dog years.
The eternal archetype—a beautiful apology, hidden, forbidden.
Shame is not avant-garde.
Not a birdling in a sky poem to be ventriloquized—falling.
I wanted more jazz so I wrote a poem,
In it, eternity happens every day, we take it for granted
As the earth burns in circles
Like a mosquito coil.
Sarpong-Osei Asamoah is a Ghanaian writer whose work appeared in Tampered Press Magazine, Icefloe Press Magazine, Lunaris Review and many others. He enjoys pottery.
