ajinde

as it rained your husband kissed your arm
his hands romantically walked your bare body
he fondled your breasts gently as though they were glass
as though each fondle is the sky creaking
                                                                  the taste of his mouth
is salt & anger             a mixture of thunderstorms & emptiness
                         of sea inside a room blessed with dead birds
            each thrust is a reminder that nothing comes from violence
you held him deep, softly said her name if to reincarnate her
            to bring her back into your belly and nurse her
                     your husband turned you over and cried into your back
                                       he pulled this sadness out of you & said sorry
                       as you dreamt of your dead daughter drinking her own milk
            as she cried into your ear, as she said her first word
as she learned to walk out into the sun, dance in the rain
            your husband came inside you, a brutal way to remind your body
                         that it once carried a dead child


Adedayo @adedayo_agarau is a documentary photographer and poet from Nigeria. He is the Assistant Editor at Animal Heart Press and a Contributing Editor at Barren Magazine. He writes on loss, boy child abuse, and absence. His works have been featured on Gaze, Mojave Heart, Glass-Poetry, Honey & Lime, Barren Magazine and elsewhere. He is the runner up of the Sehvage Poetry Prize, 2019. His Chapbook, Arrival of Rain is forthcoming from VA Press, January 2020.   

Banner Image by Robert Frede Kenter Tweets at @frede_kenter.

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