Nii hears a song which moves something in him and gestures for us to dance, and since the alcohol is dizzying around my body, I’m bold and audacious, flinging my limbs with what I mistake for freedom, all my dance moves my father’s, and his father’s before that, because the dead never leave. They’re in the slink of our hips, the swing of our limbs, in our whispers, our screams, our ecstasy.
