(acrylic & ink on earthenware:2023)

for tọ́pẹ́ àjàyí

i.

the truth is this: i used to walk around with a pennant

in hand—an emblem of my misery. content warning:

reverse midas touch. please, do not come too close.

          this body, a cabin of cries with no transcription.

ii.

     because all i ever want is sunbathing

in tenderness with my loved ones—alive & full of joy.

our black & brown faces illuminated by the evening

lamps in a space full of earthenwares.

believe me,

it could be that sweet & simple—painting caricatures

      of your friends on the faces of unglazed terracottas.

but the world is on a spinner wheel    

& everyone we love

is sprinting at a million mile per hour towards a dream.

iii.

in the heat of the holocaust, that cost me my smile

& the glow in my eyes, i found a language beautiful

enough to make a chorus out of the fire.

iv.

i sit by the potter’s wheel—hands smeared with clay—

smooth & sticky. look at my hands: palms & ten

fingers dancing to the rhythm of a self made joy.

which means the therapy is working. which means

sometimes you create your own music, your own

sonic energy & dance. dance till you can taste the salt

     of your own sweat.

v.

come friend. sit with me. show me

the ocean you’ve had to swim across.

& i will show you all the minefields

i’ve had to crawl over to get here.