Thoughts about your luscious breasts

Are being interrupted   by stupid term papers

And I cannot sleep

So I imagine your arms around me

Till I drift away   hovering

And with wings mount unto heaven

No not the supposedly golden one

Rather the silvery white residence of Obatala

Where he humors me a great deal

Mollusc-man

Where are your bones?

                         See the human bone is a scaffold

                         With life coursing through its center

                         But I-I have death in my bones

                         And I am not a man

Mollusc

What happened to your bones?

                         When death threatened to swallow all I

                         Held dear I forced an embrace and let her

                         Dwell in my bones till there was nothing

                         Left I swear I did it for love

Was it love or fear?

                         I beg your pardon?

Who is the better poet?

                         Definitely not you

                         You immoral capitalist

                         You who slice open your body

                         And fondle your own organs for sport

                         Or do you not prostitute your feelings

                         For admiration   dance shamelessly

                         Sharing your bile with the world

                         While death makes a feast

                         Of your people do you not sit idly

                         While they ordain a despot?

                             You sir are no poet!

                         You are not even a good lover

I may not be great but

Didn’t you abandon your people

To save yourself or did they not

Love you did they not tongue

Your white apparel clean

With their adulations do you

Even love them?

                        To love is to cede everything

                        To cease to exist and become

                            One with desire

                        What would you give for this desire?

See my lover is poetry

How her lips invite me

To nibble on her rounded protrusions

& lick up words off pages

Between her limbs and chew on ’em

Until language breaks into oragasm

On the tip of my tongue

Take everything and leave me poetry

                          What wouldn’t you give?

You can have everything

  Save my scapula.

…

Adeogo Adedeji is a young poet that resides in Ibadan,Nigeria. He enjoys playing chess and reading poetry. His poems are forthcoming/published in nantygreens, Night music journal and pvssymagic.