62

I should have slept, would have 
but had to fight the darkness, had 
to build a fire and bathe a man in 
flames. I will not shoot myself 
in the head, hang myself
with a trash bag. Black since 
birth, burnt by birth. Yes, I may be at risk, 
but I promise you, I trust the maggots
who live beneath the floorboards of my house 
to do what they must. Charred, 
his flesh is bark. No sign of roots.
I can’t leave him. This is limbo, life 
after death coming in hungry. 

Saloni Dixon

The Lynching