Brother, why do we fight like we are not flesh of flesh? Blood of blood. Bone of bone. Like if the time came I would not go to war for you or catch a thousand bullets just to keep you safe. Brother, why do we push these words at each other like we are not of the same womb?Brother, why do we use our truths like knives? Why does this distance exist between us? Why are we worlds apart on the same planet?

You describe her as an Eden. This rare, unknowable place. Distant.And you tell me to wear her skin but I refuse.I shift in my seat. Distant.What is it about the men that go looking for old lovers in new women. And why is it that they always want you to touch them like she touched them. Wear her head like a show piece. Use her words as lipstick.

You speak to me in locked cages.In open sentences with closed meanings.In riddles I can never seem to understand.Around you Nkem, I feel lost.Un-at-home. Dismembered.In many small bits.And in tiny minuscule pieces.

Another past midnight where we have argued until almost dawn. These days we don’t count on the sun to fix our quarrels anymore, None of Us is always Wrong. In this fighting field of loveNkem, you are the chaos at my feet. You are the thing I want most to put back together, also the thing that is killing me. The problem?I think of you at 8:00 AM.You think of me at almost midnight. Bored or lonely,I’m the one you heart frequents. And yes, yes you love me.But only on the weekends.

It is not that you want me.It is that you like the way I want you and you don’t want that feeling to go to someone else.