This machine regulates me
in ways;
at times it secretes serotonin
at certain junctures
in the way a dial returns again
accordingly to indicate
passing
like a crepuscular firefly
awaiting twilight:
I found myself grimacing
at your foot again, asking for permission into your absence.
Should I?
before entering –
1. Obey the purplish glow
2. master its betrayal
3. don’t blink
if you do, the world is going to
take from you and convince
you that taking is beautiful.
A broken home or a field with
dead bergamot nectars?
I like it better when we crawl
on each other’s voices, cenotes
of old wishes flashing by in the
November sun.
Here is to last somberness
before arriving.
Jubril Badmus ‘Badmus Jubril, 25, is a writer from southwestern Nigeria, He has lectured at the Kaduna Polythecnic. He is an avid chess player and compulsively enjoys reading essays and poetry. In reciprocating the kindness of the world, he writes as much as he can. He has served as creative director to magazines like Kaduna Institutional Press. His works have appeared in The Weaver Press Journal, Nantygreens, Dainty Scribbles among many others. He enjoys thought provoking arguments. He currently lives in Abuja.