SEX ON THE SCARS by Worden Enya

You think you’ve healed but you are still sore,
still bored; deep thrusts
still turn your insides like Mama Nkechi’s pot.
I see your eyes go white, mound rise for low lives,
lust with no pride,
scarring even those with no lives.
Bittersweet: the taste of your cunt;
salted, vinegar, despised, and rejected by boys
in hate.
In haste, I am drunk.
I sweep my heart off her feet, letting the breeze hold her skirts up for me,
taking my time like I’m taking pictures;
looking for the right angle. Where light kisses the dark.
I grope for her apples since joy no dey.
A boy today,
joy sticks and stones will pluck fruits for me.
My heart is bare and sprawled as I toy away,
nibbling the life out of regrets and shame.
I flex the pain.
My heart moans as I double the middle finger for her next of kin.


ABOUT THE AUTHOR

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Worden Enya is a performance poet, recording artiste, writer, farmer and hip hop enthusiast. He lives in Calabar, Nigeria. He runs a YouTube channel for his art. He loves God, battle rap, and good food.

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