by: elisha efua bartels. 2016
who calling-calling in morning quiet?
calling
calling
mourning
still
calling
who calling?
nobody?
[nobody]
nobody calling nobody
nobody to hear
nobody to answer
nobody there
nobody calling nobody…
calling…
nobody…
calling
calling
calling
still
calling
my other/brother/lover/self
memory calling out to itself
recalling itself
closing in on itself
spiralling, circling, closing
you come into this world with only yourself and leave it same way
[alone]
didn’t expect it so soon…
but once, we had no bars
people get lost…
a cage easy to make your home when home set afire
but it still lets in the scent of burning tyres
and smells are better than sights or sounds
for recalling, for calling…
calling
calling
calling
[me]
back to this place
back to this space
not mine but i am everywhere
and nobody
calls for me.