I am furling like arcs of tendrils unknown.
Perhaps it is the rhythm wafting from your country;
or the way of waters, how they hold flotsams
in their wake, in grips weighed in ripples.
Only that there is no water here anymore
and day too has strayed into a dark room.
I think now of the incandescence
of your eyes, their fidelity, the tender pull
of this sheen offering a look into the years
beyond and their promise of rain.
Tonight, Lagos is shrouded in a shawl
of half-light; time and the dark limiting
the variance of a promenade or the cavorting
of lovers. Yet we will dance to the skies,
Itunu, knowing the stars would witness, yet again,
to our oneness with their continent of songs.
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Gbenga Adeoba is an Associate Editor of poetry at Kreative Diadem.
[ratings]
Scintillating poetry. Gives a pretty brisk picture of pure and unadulterated love.