The slight narrative of the poet Ondjaki's new graphic novel, Our Beautiful Darkness, consists of a single conversation between two unnamed teenagers in 1990s Luanda, the capital of Angola. Plunged into darkness during a neighborhood blackout, the pair—a boy and a girl—feel emboldened to open to each other, bit by bit. There is a familiarity and chemistry between the two, and the excitement of reciprocated feelings:

Her fingers danced quickly, rhythmically across
my hand: a gesture of tenderness to soothe my nerves,
or calm her own.
After all, a person can also say things without using
their voice.

As the promise of a first kiss builds between them, they ask questions of each other and share stories, some real and some imagined, content to simply revel in this moment of quiet intimacy.

As this may suggest, Our Beautiful Darkness is light on plot—it is ...