Lodestone

       for L

And then the lodestone arrives at the door.

It pulls the stiff nails away from the wood:

Dispassion crumbles at the room-stead of the heart.

In such a room, the tyranny of dust

Is visible upon the bowl, upon the knife,

Upon the Pothos

Withering by the wooden window.

And you, my lodestone, the center

Of all I circumfere, have appeared out of 

The great fire that didn't burn.

You pulled the spike that stiffened my stub-

Born heart, and as such, what matters if all

In your hand is this invisible skein of want

You have offered me? We are the two of

Every sort that is in this gopher wood:

The new earth that awaits you

Awaits me too: let us go there, you and I.

Bio:

Abdul Awal Arikewusola, Swan XIV, writes from Ṣakí, Oyo state. He is a student at Federal University Oye-Ekit