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.
