I am a river begging to be poured into a bottle. All my life I have lived in a broken bucket, breeding mosquitoes and drinking sunlight.
When I enter a room, I cannot relate with anything or anyone. My memories are filtered in black and white -- charcoal smudged on canvas.
I am in search of peace, but the sound of silence makes me dither, Sadness playing in a slow song breaks me bit by beat.
I wish to find something to bleed out the tension but I am an empty space — an atom of atoms, willing to accept nameless bodies making dirty alterations to natural beauty.
Semilore Kilaso is a writer who loves to collect photographs of humans, architecture, wildlife, and landscape. When she is not playing Scrabble or reading books, she is reading lines from architectural drawings. Her work appears in Culturalweekly, Entropy, nantygreens, and elsewhere. You can reach her on twitter @ooreola