Memories, the clay with which we hold our demons.
On cool evenings like this, when my fingers hurt and my palms get really pale, I crawl into my bed, wrap myself away and listen to Don Williams. Then I wonder why death lets us sip from a glass of fine wine, only to tickle our throats till we spill the wine to its very last droplet.
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my poem "A Travelogue: The Grief & Ruins Outside our Walls" is now published on Eboquills. @eboquills
click link to read full poem 🖤🥂https://eboquills.com/2022/05/20/one-poem-by-olowo-qudus/
Check out this list of #opportunities for #writers (see link). The #deadlines are in May 2022, so roll up your sleeves and get to work.
Best wishes! https://eboquills.com/2022/05/07/opportunities-for-writers-with-deadline-in-may-2022/