by Tolulope Ogedengbe
The day my aunt fell to death,
the house became heavy
with the aura of mouths
sore with grieving songs.
I was asked to sing a dirge in the middle of a rain
as would a soldier to his fallen friend.
I opened my mouth to the void of the night
and a bird in my throat broke free.
today, I felt my dead aunt reincarnated in me,
as I watch a woman surrender to grief, to everything
likened to tears and memories that remind me of a house where relatives burn candles
to mourn the demise of their loved ones.