When my comfort will
Be measured in pieces of silver
When my skin will crawl
Under my mother’s breath
Be there when they crucify me
When my dank body will droop
Above the twelve glaring eyes
Of the lost sons
Who will lash me for your sins,
for a love that feels like home.
These men are my blood
So be my life, forever.
Be there when the clock strikes three
Be there to carry me
Be there to not dismay, my love
You will find me languishing,
If you look up…
Loic Ekinga is a congolese poet and storyteller who’s work focuses on the human condition and his childhood. His poems have been published in The Kalahari Review and Type/Cast Journal. His chapbook 12 Things You Failed At As A Man Today was an honourable mention in Praxis Online Magazine. He hopes to learn how to better his writing and to master the art of difficult conversations.