the liberator's monologue V {after aaron bushnell}

By Rafiat Lamidi

on a hunt for liberation, the world
opens its mouth. it feeds on the
hungry and the weak. the too slow
to feed. the wickedness of  the
world is an act of survival. the
world is the money i spend, it is
the water i drink and the crisp air i
breathe. the world is my view of
the cherry blossoms, the birds on
the trees, the sky
clear blue filled with violence,
the red chrysanthemums on my
way to work, blooming where
even a child could not breathe.
the rubble under her chin. the 
bleeding red under her chest. my
world has taken the air from her
lungs. i need nothing from
this world. i will take nothing 

---

Reading Lorca’s Romance Sonámbulo in the Operating Room ​

By Rafiat Lamidi

Wide awake, hard light
I am beautiful in the way of the moon
Nights provide a cover and a comfort
The world is a room. The moon is a lamp 
 
 
The surgeon is in position, piercing the pericardium
The woman’s heart breaks and water splashes out
The heart is at the center of a green world
I am a yolk in darkness
 
 
I am trying to find a way out of ruin
Green blood seeps into her skin
The surgeon hesitates
Her last words echoing
 
 
There is a thicket hiding in her chest
The surgeon stitches the wound
 I want to die decently
The wound runs from chest to throat
 
 
Green rust
I want to die
Dust settling at the bottom of trees
Green air
 
 
I want
Life bottled up in a cup of skin
Oxygen under pressure 

---

​Rafiat Lamidi is a poet and photographer. Her works have been published in Lolwe, Isele Magazine, Olney Magazine, Lucent Dreaming, Acropolis, The Blood Beats Series and elsewhere. Her twitter is @rauvsbunny.