you can(‘t) find me here

You can find me here, at the crossroads of it all

Where the weary, exhausted sun lies its fatigue behind the moon’s shadow

With swarms of bodies draped in corporate ties, in winter’s fall

Commuting, trekking, displacing themselves away and back into tomorrow’s afterglow

You can’t find me there, not at the centre

The birds and bees, in tow, move, live not long to see what happens here, all foreshadowed

Slyly sneaking, quiet as a corpse, to find what’s sweet in the middle

Hovering, diverging, fluttering broken wings, arrested by the silence and shortly then, disemboweled

You can always find me over there, far within the middle

Truth lies within the foundations of these floors where tigers tiptoe

Everything shakes yet nothing moves nor speaks, barrels of silenced ululations

Waning, dimming, fading away, like a midsummer’s day slowly taking its bow, the daily diminuendo

The spirit of the soul comes to rest here, where his inner peace lies

You can(‘t) always find me anywhere but here.

j’écris. nigerian, and other associations.

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