By Kayode Ayobami
say each line two times; one with your right ventricle and the other with the apex of your tongue.
Give me the audacity to be beautiful in
The face of chaos. Let my breath outpace
The speed of flood. To have the ability to
drown my worries in the gurgle of laughter.
I’ll make a windmill in the face of the drought
that reddens my father’s eyes. I promise to
never curse the day my anxiety confines me
To the four walls of my room. To raise my
Shoulders to the loads that lower my mum’s
Shoulders. To reduce, into dust, the mountains
that refuse the landing of the rainbow. To become
A bee and sting my depression to death. To clap
When others pop the bottle of joy, for I know
That the courier that handles my parcel stops
For a blind man to cross to the other side of
The road. I don’t really like beverages, but ginger
Should remember that a Yorùbá man seeks
Longlife through something spicy. Who says
A kúùfíń should die without leaving the traces
Of its flame? Let me not die like a rat caught
In-between a farmtrap. Let me not die like a
Vagabond. I do not want a love Rudy has for
The sandcastles. If there’s no one to love me
Back, then let me love myself to the moon and
Back. To the heavens and earth. A love that
Swallows the galaxy of stars. I hope these
Duas have the wings to fly without hitting
Their heads on a cursed tree with unfortunate
Branches. I hope these prayers see through
The fog, body the storm, strike the thunder
& overpower the rain. I hope they do not
Fall back on my tongue and ventricle like a
Crashed bird in the face of a mirror.
BIO:
Káyọ̀dé is a Nigerian and an African literature enthusiast, interested in Academics and Yorùbá translation. His works have been published or forthcoming in Icefloepress, Olongo, Àtẹ́lẹwọ́, PoetrySangoỌta, Isele, Ake review, South Florida, and elsewhere. He was shortlisted for the Ake Climate Change Poetry Prize (2022). He tweets @kayodeAyobamii