Jesse Ojuka

Everyone has this strange feeling that they’re someday going to die 
But even the word doesn’t make sense, 
We already know nothing dies 
Even ashes turn to rain 
And even rain turns to nectar 
And even honey turns to 
Focus that allows me to read a book 
On how imagination can change 
Our brains
Never been good at the things within the boxes 
But shapes turn me grape 
And tablespoons turn my tea. 
Here, can you invite others in on the joke 
It’s never been so silent on this couch before 
And the desire is separate to the 
Act.