weep and clean common areas with your aunties. together you fill empty rooms with a sad son who paints the walls grey then white. you find him caring with sepia eyes. wrapped in blankets, you cannot be friends. this is fire. water turned to ammonia. cortado foam forms delicate lithography. when the sad son asks for names of enemies, you say everyone loves him.
Ekoko Pauline Omadeke is a multidisciplinary artist who lives and creates in Brooklyn, NY. She teaches the Make Waves Poetry Workshop and geeks out on all things astronomy or space travel related. She received her MFA in Creative Writing from NYU and a residency at the Writers’ Colony at Dairy Hollow. Her work has been featured in No, Dear Magazine, Ars Poetica, and the Cave Canem anthology.
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