Illustration: photo of brain coral digitally manipulated to resemble abstract juddering face made of stars

At the shoreline of dawn

again, i unfasten a star from the grasp
of the cloud & it dissolves into another

night    where i am a dark cloud begging
to cascade like a waterfall   but i don’t

because i am not as heavy as the waters
above me   every dead i have buried

i am a river refracting light towards the
sky   & in a flash, i am a rainbow with

colours of grief     a curve, bent into the
shoreline of sunrise    now remind me

what it means to be at the border of light
a place my body can only call exile

because when i draw memories
from my eyes, my iris becomes a lit

candle dwindling in the wind
remind again what it means to walk

into light & not carry pyrophobia
beneath your feet as friction

& not feel fire & not feel the impulse
to dance   where dancing is a euphemism

for ache     in my eyes, there’s a mirror
that inverts beauty     say, at the end of

this tunnel, there’s a cave begging to
swallow  me & its threshold is a gun,

its breath, a bullet straying towards me
& on the wall, there’s a shadow of a boy
searching for his shadow

Chinedu Gospel, frontier IV, is a young Nigerian Poet. He writes from Anambra. And he’s the moderator of spoken word poetry for Threposs: a reel of poetry. His works have appeared or are forthcoming in The Rising Phoenix Review, LUNARIS Review, Rough Cut Press, Eremite poetry, Feral poetry, Poetry column NND, Eunoia review, Midway journal, Rigorous magazine among others. He enjoys listening to music or reading poems when in his leisure. Say hi on twitter @gonspoetry & on IG @gospelsofpoetry

Illustration by C.B. Auder.

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