Recurrence

(For Wonu, who is beating it)

You have come again, Metastatic Ghost.

Coded in these humble cells.

I see you. The way scars hold
the memory of an injury.

I thought the margins were clear, that the
remission was your grand finale, but nooooo!

You have returned like a stupid encore.

Your name still lives in reports I thrashed like
wayward scribbles. The hunger I thought
was already satisfied.

But this body will stand.

Don’t mistake my endurance or
healing for welcome

You are no longer mystery.
Or a ghost without profile.

Your grip loosens now.

Metastatic Ghost, you have come again.

This body will stand.

• Chris Ogunlowo
  Calgary, Canada