May 25, 2026

by MARVELLOUS MMESOMACHI IGWE

The Fall

The palm descended like lightning.

Swift was the wrath of god.

And as flesh slapped hard against quiet wood,

thunder ripped through the night.

Death was the blooming fruit.

Because knowledge comes at a cost.

Ask Eve. Ask Icarus.

Ask this creature lain bruised and bare.

Its limbs crushed open, its body torn.

Much like Lucifer after the rebellion.

Do you remember that night?

So swift was the father's wrath. And yes he

knew everything would happen.

And he let it happen. So who is to be blamed;

the creation, the creator?

When the moment was taken, did a moth not

pass through a flame and burn?

It met that knowledge coming after

knowledge. Do not ask where it went.

And what of we forsaken ones? We were left

on earth. Wingless, fatherless.

We were left to crawl.

*

Homecoming

Army Range all too cold this evening and

now you can see the grey teeth of rain.

Good thing. We have spent too long in the

heat, blinded by too much light.

Remember yesterday. Light streaming

through the blue glass of yesterday.

Through the walls.

The eyelid. Bone.

How the palm trees gleamed a dark metal

under the raging sun.

How they dance now in the wind, in the exact

vein of joy that I know.

Overhead, a flare flickers like an angel on

fire— and I can understand it.

All of that brightness.

All of that hunger.