àkèré is crying
in the abandoned pond
beside my window. the darkness
is everywhere on a moonless night.
it enters into my heart & into my fingers
& into the url space of my phone browser
in the shape of letters like Andrew's crucifix.
3 times Andrew's crucifix is equal to xxx...
in the darkness within my room,
i am a lady wearing a lingerie
inside my palms. & i hypnotise
the man between my legs
with my gait & allure.
i enter myself
within my palms.
& i jerk like a body
suffering an electrocution.
my breath is turning
into the whisper of a wind.
then it rises & becomes the sound
of tyres warring a tarred road: screech.
i spill my babies
onto the brown floor.
my room is a graveyard
full of little children
buried in the cemetery
of handkerchiefs, tissue papers, & used clothes.
every night,
when àkèré cries,
i am a murderer
emptying myself onto the floor,
turning a generation of frail bodies
into mere spots upon the circumference
of inanimate objects. dead before they ever arrived.
in my arrival [coming] is the death of a thousand nations.
#WorshipHolic
#Poetic
© 2018
àkèré is the Yoruba word for "frog".
