desire is a delicate thing. & sometimes
a dangerous thing. it could heal wounds, but also
open fresh eyes in the body. a man once offered
his palms to the sky to kill thirst, & was buried by
the sea. another man, finding food for his belly,
walked into a forest to hunt game. crouched atop
a tree, he sighted an antelope in an okra farm—
he fired, only to find the bullet burning in the body
of his woman. every time I have dreamed myself in-
side a shawl-soft boy, it has ended with beauty bruised:
my body translates to a smoking house, his
body: a mug filled with cold water & ash
Ernest Ogunyemi (b. October 2000) is a writer from Nigeria. Some of his works have appeared/ forthcoming in The Indianapolis Review, Yemassee, Glass, Memento: An Anthology of Contemporary Nigerian Poetry, Erotic Africa: The Sex Anthology, among other places. He is an assistant editor at Counterclock, and a poetry reader at Palette. He is also curating The Fire That Is Dreamed Of: The Young African Poets Anthology. His micro-chap my mother died & I became _______ is forthcoming from Ghost City Press.
