[for S.K]
We felt the friction;
skins of flint & steel rubbing on a bed of straw,
pillows filled with gunpowder
each breath carrying the sparks: little fires necessary for combustion
your hands holding my outwilled body to the heat
you, just there, gushing streamlets of stardust
as i stroked your back, feeling
for wings you never believed were there
i shushed your doubts, and drew you
close enough to taste truth on my lips
hours ago, you were a temple marked for demolition,
temple brimming with nostalgia
of a god forsaken, or
goddess inside you,
now roused to savor everything i spill out
as libation
and there you are, glowing in a jacuzzi:
Venus flytrap opening to enclose boy,
the evening of his first joyride on a mayfly.
Martins Deep (he/him) is a budding African poet, photographer/artist, & currently a student of Ahmadu Bello University, Zaria. His works deeply explores the African experience. His creative works have appeared on FIYAH, Barren Magazine, The Sandy River Review, Agbowó Magazine, Surburban Review, FERAL, & elsewhere. He loves jazz, adores Amanda Cook, and fantasizes reincarnating as an owl. He tweets @martinsdeep1