The snip snip snip of the mobile tailor’s scissors

no longer competes with the once noisy street.

How easily we have been separated and silenced

like dead leaves dispersed by breeze.

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I have learnt to breathe my own air

and I forget how it felt to breathe shared air.

Slowly, minute after minute, breeze blows away

remaining bits of touch fighting for a spot on my skin.

I have learnt to catch the music in silence

the way butterflies are caught with cupped hands

and listen to loneliness while I give myself the task

of chasing the clouds in star strewn skies.

*This poem was shortlisted for Bloomsday Poetry Competition sponsored by the Embassy of Ireland, Nigeria. More details here.

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