Inheritance after fire
Inheritance after fire
I will forget you
I am forgetting you already
Look how I burn the archive
Look how I make extinction look like dancing
In the future
They will call it mutation
The way this body holds what it was never meant to survive
Like silence in a mother’s mouth
You say I remember too much
But I think the remembering is what makes me human
And the forgetting is what made me dangerous
Once you touched me like I was language
Fragile, evolving and full of spelling errors
You said my name like it might end the war inside you
But memory is not linear
It loops like code
Like longing, like your hand still hovering on my back
In every mirror I pass
Some nights I wake up
Half machine, half boy, half scream
Trying to burn the part of me that still believes you’ll return
If I leave the light on
What is forgetting if not a form of time travel
I rewind, I try to erase the Mandinka on my tongue
I dream your voice in a language
That hasn’t been invented yet
Still, the archive persists
And the body reboots with your name in its nature
Witness how this body can keep what it no longer want
Like ash still warm, like a planet too tired of spinning
My skin still holds the shape of you leaving
I will forget you, I promise
Look how I burn myself trying to
If you do not wake yourself from that grave, I will
I have already mapped the algorithm
But then I breathe and you are here? inside the exhale
Inside the scar that whispers like a prophecy
Father
Look at me
I am forgetting you
But not all at once
Never, all at once