A drip of burgundy-coloured wine trails down my arm,
As if a needle had pierced the place where skin should be
I let a sigh escape, throttling the fleshly folds of my neck.
My sight sinking into the darkened canvas of the skies above.  
The madding buzz of humanity in the streets below
Now gone, like the once present minutes of the day before. 

I press the tip of the sax to my lips and blow
Gently, as though a babe were asleep in a cot. 
By my window, in a hammock, I blow
Letting the wind from the streets commingle with the wind in me. 
A streak appears among the stars tonight
Like a matte of chocolate nougats spread on a bed of icy cream. 

As I exhale my metres into my horn
Meteors dash across my view
Both sights and sounds to the film of my life.
I play to please the wine in me, 
Whose gurgly bubbles provide me surety.
No happier times than these, 
When I can pout my lips at the heavens in peace.

About the author:

Nnamdi Christopher Iroaganachi is a poet and writer with an eye for the unseen, an ear for the unheard, and a tongue for the unspoken. Nnamdi writes and speaks because he thinks each alphabet has a spirit within it, needing to find a home in each individual human heart. Like his work, Nnamdi is a healer with the written and spoken word. He currently lives in Abuja, Nigeria, but frequently travels to worlds beyond from where he brings back literary treasure bought with drops of his sweat and blood.

Feature image by Pawel Czerwinski on Unsplash