JEDIDIAH MUGARURA
Before love was a word, it was. A man is a lover toward heaven. He marks black where you submit to him. His hot breath turns you into a ghost of him. Then, he grows his hair like you grew yours. He was not his before he was yours. You figured when he smiled it was your own. What happens if you own What was not accorded to you for long? If you remember where you belong, The sun will choose not to share its light with the moon. Where you belong was before the moon, Before love was a word. Before love was a word, It was. ///
(OPPOSITE) BLANCO, 8" x 12", COPPER PLATE ETCHING AND AQUATINT ON PAPER, 2019 | BRAXTON GARNEAU
Image courtesy of the artist.
JEDIDIAH MUGARURA // 31
BEFORE LOVE WAS A WORD, IT WAS