"Dreaming of Amadou"
when you awoke that morning, your skin was already smoke,
lifting feverishly into the evening sky. crying blackness, the anise seed of night trembles.
i dreamt of you, all fourty one of your luminous constellations crashing slowly into my body, a shell burning of your lightning.
i imagined myself as ali,
tried to strike a fist against
all enemies, found myself beating ghosts into canvas, found myself faced down in a concrete river, forced to smell another man’s body, his sweat running into my skin until i boiled over; arms pulled back, hands cuffed, bullets stinging:
my soul runs like blood, into the concrete, into the river.
-ibrahim azhar, 2014