Until I was told not to go out,
I was always happy to stay in.
Now my empty calendar is a window I can’t see through
I dream in pairs;
Dialogues and handshakes
Working drawings and angle grinders
Things spinning in place and when I wake up I spin with them.
When this is over,
We will go dancing
in the most crowded dance floor we can find.
Pressing recklessly into one another.
*This poem was shortlisted for Bloomsday Poetry Competition sponsored by the Embassy of Ireland, Nigeria. More details here.