Blood Return

mosquitoes swole off my blood, a grand prix of expansion.

what they drink is on flag, minnowing iron, my blood afflicted


family w/ growing distance to their will

in testament. be mold in the miles between us before I am called


for something other than mercy. before I call to hear anvils,

where who you love doesn’t love


your new skin. ask the love of my blood in what cell is affiliation? mine

still look like me. got teeth from our mamas. like him, his mama raised me


& now we inherit raising them, though she met the other plane. & I hefty

talk about this dimming gold batch of shit secrets in sentences.


where is my modern mead, something of biblical import to massage

the insides, my suede lungs blackening from blunts I share


w/ my lover who burned me in bed while passing a roach in the dark.

our fingers met, but the lit end dropped to my chest. a brand


he shares, & maybe I shouldn’t smoke in bed or maybe passing

lit ends post bomb head is a liability no insurance will comp.


oh kin of hemoglobin, buzz home to me. I call what leaves me back

to gather iron my anemia lacks.

Nabila Lovelace is a first-generation Queens-born poet, whose people hail from Trinidad and Nigeria. Sons of Achilles (YesYes Books, 2018), her debut book of poems, is out now. You can currently find Nabila kicking it in Tuscaloosa.