Morénikéjì
I can add my body to yours
and imagine
that under the ocean tonight
we take a communion
against the world and
write our names where the sun
cannot reach. It will be all dark
and we don’t have to worry
about how the governance of this water
brings out the animal in us
because wherever the snail goes
the shell follows.
Hypothesis for a Body in Passion
Ìwà
The best part of the night
is when you say I should spit
my shame outside the window
and place your name on my tongue.
When the moon turns
its back on us,
I close my eyes
and tell you what your legs
look like on the eastern part
of this room before you say,
“Graze.”
1 comment
This is good😁
This is my definition of a good poem..
Giving us twisted lines which doesn’t make the words literal, yet we could understand what you are saying.
It’s the ‘graze’ for me.
I love love this work.