Liquid Elegy.

After the death of 26 Nigerian migrants who died crossing the sea.

By Oluwadare Michael
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How so could we breathe
When the rain fell on us that
We couldn't when our skins fell
Into the sea?
Our beings became a serial chant
To the water that was long necessary
Before our mothers as our lungs
Became an opened swallows of liquid
Salt.

In the cruel heart of the Mediterranean,
A sister echoes unto the lost soul of her sister
To see her own death rippling down a
Furrowed depth with twenty-five cold
Leaking women bodies.

And this was how we were coupled
With our own death,
Our skins denied our soft bones and marched
Our soaked entrails to the popping eyes of
Oysters shore,
Into the house of the mean goddess who
Smiled at us with her blood tainted teeth.

Mike Spokes.