On Dust

Yvonne Adhiambo Owuor, Dust - You sing as if you know water. - - Music and painting bandaged soul-holes. - - Soon the wise chose cowardice, a way of life: not hearing, not seeing, never asking, because sound, like dreams, could cause death. - - In dust, an outline, a grooved, leaf-shaped scar. 'Every crevice contains a story. Every story points north. - - Never trade a name. Trade in everything else, but not a name. - - He can no longer see the small things. - - They had turned old stories into songs without words. - - This...