those who leave in white dresses
as if the world held its eye a secret the hand shrinksmuscle memory shimmering raw
with teeth stitched to bones in their most honest sin masked in scrub of gore
& her body becomes keys silent enough as a story of custody
of an edible history a stillness that betrays her
a grain for a bloodied door of dust potted for eyes
she is bride of fire lure of waste
how completeness is a way to unnerve
a sky eating it’s tragedy clean off worn eyelashes
a girl again going untold
mapping road within whirlpool-slack of tongue
a drunk bird slouched with the righteous scent of blame
in one hand men are gelid reserves
a calligraphy of unmarked blood
in another hand gorgeous knives grew into a garden of boys
peeling into a fracture of white dresses
& like the stranger she builds a hole against the back of memory
scratches body in earth in shape of wholly lived abandon
for air quietly craving walls & a stillborn brain
how well how very well she handles her own absence
Olúwádáre Pópóọla is a Nigerian poet, a student of Microbiology and a Sports Writer for a media company. He writes from a city named by a rock and longs to see the world without discrimination of any form. Learning the art of imagery, his poems are up/forthcoming on Glass Poetry, The SHORE, Barren Magazine, Kissing Dynamite, Mineral Lit. Magazine, Feral, Roadrunner Review, Lumiere Review, Cypress Poetry Journal, and elsewhere. He is a best of the net nominee. He can be reached on Twitter @Kunmi_sher
Banner: The Frozen Rose, a digital image by Robert Frede Kenter. Tweets: @frede_kenter
IceFloe Press 