The mythology of things

A Poem

By Tanya Akrofi

I flew here
on a paper plane that had
been tenderly pressed down into strict
angular corners and stuck together with bits
tattered ribbon and the remains of a psychedelic
tape that my father had smuggled past the guards
hidden in his deep pockets which were already full
of lies and full of love. Somehow I became an “English girl”
when I had sworn that I would always belong to the clouds.
Blind though they are they dance exactly like forever. Living
serenely in their exile. I had thought of myself as being equally
  full of thunder and raindrops.
Flying on those stolen ribbons
through the blue.
Such sweet songs are lies
but lies are such sweet songs.