Our thoughts in exchange for yours.

The Exchange is the Weekly’s poetry corner, where a poem or piece of writing is presented with a prompt. Readers are welcome to respond to the prompt with original poems, and pieces may be featured in the next issue of the Weekly.

Where The Algae Grows

by chima “naira” ikoro

my hands clasped around you like a firefly and suffocated all your patience in an attempt to save whatever little light you brought to my face— the buzzing, a whisper calling me to flee towards the heavens with you.

musta saw me and thought “she is so beautiful she must have wings, all of the beautiful things do.” so what did it mean when you looked back, saw me still sitting on the ground looking up at you? either that i was not beautiful, or that i’m broken, or that angels and butterflies and birds are not the pinnacle of grace— don’t roaches fly? won’t the rocks cry out if God decides we are not loud enough? doesn’t every still pool of water with trash in it grow moss or algae, or an ecosystem of mold if it’s left unbothered long enough? won’t something come of this mess if i wait?

THIS WEEK'S PROMPT: “WHAT HAS WAITING TAUGHT YOU ABOUT

YOURSELF?”

This could be a poem, journal entry, or a stream-of-consciousness piece. Submissions could be new or formerly written pieces. Submissions can be sent to bit.ly/ssw-exchange or via email to chima.ikoro@southsideweekly.com.