A plot of 5 new words



this is how we write the story of our admiration
on clouds that hands cannot touch
till it begins to rain profusely
in graves within the Bermuda
till we begin to look for what’s missing
as soon as the perks fall off,
my eyes would behold nothing else
but the hunch, the way you talk
the way your existence serenades me
like a mother crooning her child,
and a child, I’ll find peace
peace in your voice,
peace in your intentions
but I have forgotten how to write
how to write a love poem.

Victor Oyedele

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