Dedicated to the memory of Tahirih Ekpe, beloved sister. (1976–2015) As I run in the woods, I cry. As I wash the dishes, I cry. As I dress myself, I cry. When the phone rings, I cry. When people speak to me, I cry. When I look at your beautiful photograph, I cry. I cry when I lay on your bed. I cry when I wrap myself in your clothing and smell your sweet scent. I cry as I sift through the papers and books, looking for some part of your soul, something to hold unto, something