By Ogunkoya Samuel
This day last year,
You sat songs on your lips
They fell like autumn leaves
to your sleeves.
You wove poetry out of them.
Lengthy footnotes to God.
Every punctuation was a hidden sentence.
Your poem was a delicate prayer
to be stronger than your strength
to be more human than humna
You crawled through becoming
And named every day of the year after all
the cities you have been to. You once
told a girl she is the best city you
Ever visited. You watched her smiled then laughed
and then began to cry. She asked you what makes you stay.
You told her you are of the seed of Cain.
Today, you will rise again.
God knows flowers grow in deserts.
Today, you have fled to yourself again
To be happy
To find home
For no man can find home