By Nkanu Egbe purple robes adorn our bodiesas stench from decayinglimbs signal turbulence.we wine and dine in this roomwhere cadavers are laid like logs,pulling the strings of our heart.we do not see cadavers but paintingson the wrong canvas.the land is green, but its dreams are deferredtill her civil war victims are canonized on thealtar of Read More…
