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;

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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.

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