—for Nyxïa

 

            permit me to start again—
to etch my verses on the moon
                        –stones circling the crown

            on your head—
to open the medallion of my soul
                        & fill me with the dark mist

            of your breath.
Nyxïa, for you i role-play God—
                        roll up the shutters of my eyes

            & say: let there be darkness.
phoe-nyxïa/ o queen of souls /  fold me
                        in the noiselessness of your wings.

            tuck me, safely, as a mother would a baby,
in the cradle of your heart.
                        i stand in the tenderness

            of this mid-winter—
between a coma and a dream. tell me what this desire
                        will make of my existence.

            if desire is nothing
but the dream of a boy to bask
                        in the aureole of a primordial goddess,

            let me glissade, silently, into coma.
chariot me back to genesis—
                        before God interrupts the face of the deep

            with light.

© 2024 Sodïq Oyèkànmí