Suffocating

It began in open windows and although
These windows were a bit tinted I believed
In space in time through the erasing
Of time itself; this was needed most
To be gone, therefore, forgotten
Breeze in the backyard
From the second story windows
Why was there never a conclusion?
Just getting to the air
Just falling on some things
That were never promised except
The windows being open and the air
Being so warm that one could feel
As if it was all real
Open-ended, ended in a note
A text and tapping of keys
Which travelled farther than any daydream?

Ryan Johnson

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About Ijagun Poetry Journal

Ijagun Poetry Journal is a quarterly journal that provides a platform from which we can tell our own stories in the authenticity of their multiplicity through the poetic medium. We don’t want to hear these stories from our master “griots” alone; we want to hear from those mastering their art, too. Hence, we aim at publishing new and emerging poets. We also welcome the works of established poets in order to encourage the poetic genius of those mastering poetic art. We prize original works that conform to, break or reinvent conventions. Again, we accept reviews and critical essays on poetry. We also accept powerful art works and photographs that make us appreciate the "poetry" in everything.
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