Honey & Spice

by Bolu Babalola

“Sis” was a powerful, potent word, one that had the power to build up or destroy with the same intensity; it was a sword that could either be used to knight or slice.

Amber and umber lights lit up the dark and saw twilight and sunset finding a home in heavily moisturized brown skin, making it glow with delicate force.

That soft listening space that he always left when we spoke, like no word he said would work the way it’s supposed to without my response.

Nile posed himself as cure and absolution.