The night is a long gulp
it does not quench a thirst
but it lingers
dripping down
a place where panic
sets up shop
I am in a market of minds
plying wares
of eggs
cracked open
and bleeding white
in a polar plain
I am trapped in warm rooms
as the polar beast
ravages the city with swords of icicles
ice is clawing at my window
its finger nails jab
with needle points
I am buried in battles
with a cracked skull
a ligament of tissue
holds the two halves together
as a triple person
I live in triple exiles
In a sphere of trinity
my bloodline
My father is a Nigerian
soldier
My mother’s roots are in Biafra
that land where the sun
fled at the foot of the Niger
Then, I am a eunuch
breathing with breeders
The night is a gulp
of yawns
lumps of bodies
seduce sleep
At a place where my mind is a spring
bouncing
in and out of spaces
flooded with madness:
a pile of shit abuzz with flies
maggots
the dry stench of faeces
there is a symphony in my head:
the buzz, the stench and the sin
a pillar of sin
slams down my weight
it bends me over like a prostitute in service
its hoarse hands
speak in guttural voices
these voices have teeth
with soft bites
they yank at my nipples
pain becomes the pill I have to swallow
to numb
this pleasure that sits between my thigh
the night is a gulp of sorts
city lights serve drinks
with glasses that click beyond
a dinner date
footsteps conspire with
beds and baths
room service
for transactions on flesh and flavours
what I take in
escapes in gasps
moans and sighs
they float like bubbles in the air
I gulp the night like a juice
kicking my shoes to the curb
as I arrive at my destination:
this table where I negotiate
the cost of my body parts
my core curves
part
for deals sealed with darting eyes and nods
I don’t bargain with the night
its price bears supermarket tags
next I’ll shed the costume I wear
to conceal the scars panting for breath
I’ll set them free
as I unleash the demons
that have held me bound
I’ll embrace the night with the speed of a car wreck
and watch metal and mud merge
the shriek of by-standers
reach their end before they leave their mouths
their faces wear a wide mouth
it is the large holes in their mouths
the jaws that dangle like pendulums
that distracts me
I am the girl-child that was raised by the hard hands of the world
I know the pictures of rot
though drops of rain have blurred their margins
I have acquired the skill to douse them in a sea of scents.
my scabs are powered enough to crease in rehearsed smiles
I don’t fear dagger points
I fear the unsteady hands that wield them
The dots of my blood line have shielded shame
and buried it like treasures in a dungeon
but I’ll shred this veil that keeps me from the sun
It starts with this buzz
to set the night aflame
Let’s sit around this fireplace
stoking the flames to keep us warm
these fires of our cremation
It starts with this buzz
Let’s light up the night with gallons of promiscuous gases
and watch it devour this civilisation like a polar beast
hauling blizzard balls
across these polar plains
Let it freeze this flesh of fire
until we re-negotiate our terms
signed with the dotted line of my lineage…