I am a bird. I often fly too high into the sky, get too close to the sun. My wings melt, and I crash into the sea. Perhaps I drown, salty water filling my lungs. But I always rise again. Eternal.
Konya Shamsrumi is an African poetry press, perhaps the only one. It sure feels lonely. So, come join in—Dakar to Cape Town, Nakuru to Casablanca—#OneAfrica
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