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all the men I love are grasses, stubborn
things that grow beyond of time. I take
them to my city and my city, a large
water. One hand against the strand, the
other pushing back the flood. Sometimes
I say swim, say that is the only path
through water & life but the men, they
end inside of me.

Born on a Friday in December, Fatihah Quadri Eniola is a young Nigerian poet whose work has been featured in Torch Literary Arts, Blue Marble Review, The West Trade Review, Agbowo, The Shore Poetry, and elsewhere. She is a nyctophobic gathering experience in law in the University of Ibadan.
Current Issue
15 Jul 2024

I inherited the molting, which my mother will deny; she’ll insist it’s a thing only women do, each heartbreak withering from the body like a petal.
a sand trail ever fungible, called to reconcile the syrupy baubles—resplendent pineapple geodes
Who chose who spoke? Who silenced the sparrow?
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