Inky Peeps
“I am not the prodigal son,” I said to my mother who had come to take me back. “I’m going to Africa,”
to see if my face colors her ground, if my sadness thickens Sahara dust and famine, if my wet season rains anything more…
“I am not the prodigal son,” I said to my mother who had come to take me back. “I’m going to Africa,”
to see if my face colors her ground, if my sadness thickens Sahara dust and famine, if my wet season rains anything more…