As she bend reaching for the broken pen out of her pulse
Starring at the middle line shape of her breastfeeding arouse my emotions
Dangling around in chain of what not to do

The scorching sun burns through my skin in fever
So thirsty I presumed it was
With sweat dripping down from beneath my bald head
She rises to her stand staring at my innocent eye

The dark preacher humming softly
While the sacred house close to the mosque
With both door opened slammed shut by her first word
. Bald like the winter soldier
My bald hair grows wild and wide of word to describe
As do the words out of my mouth
Banished out from beneath my tongue
I know you not
But like the falling star I await your landing at my stairs

What time of festive season is this
crowd assembled like pieces of moving clouds
children enjoying the chase of the masked ragged being
echoes of the masked surround the atmosphere
covered in pieces of fabrics
a pretense know to the festive

Dancing in acrobat
drizzling softly to the incantation summon
spell of the powerful changes appearances of the weak
the street alive with sound that envy
and also of cries that defy
broad-day transformation,transfix the cloud
changing appearances to the sound of the drum
covered in rags like the aged chimp

what a quiet festive
where bird dies from the concussion cause by echoes
sweet like the falling dew of the night
and sour like the pure drizzling rain fall

mysteries of the covered costume
petting the daily needs of the gods of iron

battle of the dressed clothed beast
hiding in the costume of the sacred cow
relic of an ancient time
battle between the masked is like a tread line
centered to a burning flame
like explosive the pouch of dancing masquerade explore the strength

Because your repeated calls torment your mother
And your predestined to death makes her milk sour

Abiku returns to plague the mother
wondering around in circle of her womb
That which he possess is death

A wandering child
Why not stay around and stay
Why pester around a tired soul
For her body rejects your calling

The scarification from your last visit announce your present
like ostrich you tend to death
And both your parent grows weak and old of your repeated coming and torment

Stay and play with your mate
For the cow and cowries have been placed under the bamboo tree close to the river bank
Along with the healthy pigeon
For when you part your kindred spirit
Then her womb heals