A Museum Of Grace

By Olabisi Abiodun Akinwale:

Butterflies- Day 11

A Museum of Grace

this poem starts with the gaps in your teeth,
-an open door to an endless abyss. my body fell into it

& became a seed pregnant with cities.
because love is a way to embrace things

that saved you from you & hands that held you
from butchering your image in grief’s name.

because when you came, it was quarter past gloom
& my heart was the ticking second on silence’s wrist

& your love is a form of light, light enough to float on my blood
& slit my skin open into a museum of grace,

& your love is a mirror with parted lips,
I look in your eyes & God giggles for the first time.

like art dancing on water, your smile is a storm at peace with the sea,
it planted itself in my head & grew into a moonflower.

Anike, take my hands, make yourself a samosa, eat & be merry,
walk with me, let sundown adore our hearts with fireflies.

lay softly on my shoulder & let me string your hair into a song,
this alto of my voice may not be of nightingales, but will

fill your body with wings & heaven’s fluffiness,
it’ll carry melodies across your heartbeat & not miss steps.

© Olabisi Abiodun Akinwale
Undiluted Poet

Olabisi Akinwale
Olabisi Akinwale

Poetry, prose and the wonders in between.

Articles: 57

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