where i come from, we do not know
how to touch
you laid next to me in my dimly lit room
you have never called me by name, you
do not need to
you only look into my eyes
& i am summoned
your hands do not know the meaning of rest
they have been wandering, seeking a home
& they find it
inside a mould of flesh
they morph into shovels & dig deeper
until my mouth surrenders
you substitute skin for intimacy
an equation that would be incomplete
without words
my body has known praises from lustful lips
& curses from my own
your breathing chases my own until we fall in sync
my curses begin to break
as if on cue, Asa sings Morning Man
& i find all the words i had been looking for
you were sent here to make my mornings sing
& my evenings dance
Adwoa Amankwah is a budding writer from the Bono Region in Ghana. She studies Accounting at KNUST. She loves to write about family and friendships. Her work, “Mother Mothered appeared in CGWS’ fourth issue. She dreams of becoming an accomplished writer in the near future. She is on twitter as @theedoris.
