By Adedokun Seyi


Yesterday has said how beautiful you are in the cozy hand of fate.

Shivering and longing for the gift of the morrow.

Feeling free from having an affair with the promise

that fumes a flame of choice and action

sprung out of the tiny noise of jubilation.


You were so elegant in your outfit that I was gay

All thankful for having you in my solace.

Characterized by a belle which attacks the mind violently

And takes away the attention of my libido to rest

This made me edge for the future promise.


I wonder why you couldn’t stand it

When all your likes are in the world of choice

You sat on my bed, telling me you can do it

You were telling me to stay stronger than I was

That you have what will protect me,

That I do not need to be a phobic for a little practice.


I do not know how to salvage myself from my dying want

And I’ve thought that I have you;

who I can pass my fear through

as dancing fluid flowing into its place of affair.


At first,

all I see in you was pretence

Like Simi, who pretend to detest the aroma of defilement

and locked the door several times against a fate.

But she has been practising every style so as to appear not like a novice.


I’ve thought you to be the street girl

hawking in an empty tray,

calling buyers to purchase for free.

She already has a Ha-ah hidden like a  treasure under her covering.


But your promise of protection is an everlasting regret to the fate

which has a warship to drench me into its toil

and make me an everlasting bastard father.

And that little practice you said …

was patience.

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