by K. Eltinaé

Was she dancing or counting bodies in her language?

Go on, tell her about how you still can’t
look at a belt without remembering the weight
and moaning across the carpet.

How your clothes still kiss the floor
and age faster than you sleep.

Choose all you want she says,
but live under my feet.


[K. Eltinaé is a Sudanese poet of Nubian descent. His work has been translated into Arabic, Greek, Farsi, and Spanish and has appeared in World Literature Today, The African American Review, About Place Journal, Muftah, among others. A selection of his poems were shortlisted for the 2019 Brunel International African Poetry Prize. He currently resides in Granada, Spain. More of his work and an interview can be found at]