For Itunuoluwa “Comfort”

I say Inna lillahi wahinna ilei raajihun for my ghosts lying in God’s lap. Itunu, you are one of them. anytime we think of you, tears always find it easy to lodge into our skins & ruggedity finds it difficult to submerge us. I do not know any literary word to use for cry. here, we cry for you; we cry for another journey you plan to walk in which you’re ignorant of. Comfort, you, a chrysanthemum flower plucked by a strange butterfly. who will deliver us from this pang? who will deliver us from this unwanted loneliness? hands are stretched out like mats for Jumu’ah prayer, tongues supplicating something incoherent into God’s ears. We do not want you leave; we do not want you to be another unfinished story dripping out of our mouths like icicles. how do we tell this without tears hugging our eyes? how do we tell our foetuses that one of the flowers we once planted has become withered like a rosebush? Comfort, today, I pray you find your name in every step you take outside here.












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