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      November 1, 2019Chasing HomeIfeoluwa Ayandele

      If your borders could talk,
      they would tell you the meaning
      of chasing home:
       
      distance is a figurine of faded
      fingers tracing home in maps;
       
      assurance is the breath of bombs
      spread to the four winds;
       
      holding hands is finding
      the vanity of chasing home
       
      & silence is how you learn to
      let go of the bullets’ holes at home.
       
      Finding a pillow is finding
      a home in solitude. & finding
       
      a home in solitude is finding
      how graves bury memory in
      the pillow of an empty city.

      from #65 - Fall 2019

      Ifeoluwa Ayandele

      “After reading Louise Glück’s The Wild Iris, something within me said, ‘There is a story in you, if you can dig deep into your memory.’ That was 2017, and I began to dig into my memory of growing up in rural southwest Nigeria, where grief was a continual part of home and trying to find an alternative becomes a constant desire.”

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