INTO MY FOREFATHERS' ARMPIT

Into the shallow rooted forest that

Collages itself before a ravine sloping

South-wards into my forefathers' armpit, 

Haired by witchweeds rivelling in hues

Of grasshoppers Jonah-ing into the mouth

Of calabar snakes. 

Idim Edoho bares itself to the sky —the 

Crystal reflection of the moon rippling upon

Her body. I am before her, ready to bare myself 

Too. The evening romance between I and water

Is semi-coloned by tweets of nightjars, as if to say

Kiss us, we too are a product of nature. Paragraphs 

Away from me, Ikputu rocks himself over the sycamore 

Happying against the tenderness of air. I call him my

Father —which is to say, anytime my father mans the doorway

Every ray of happiness funelling into the house dies. And love

Once again remains a stranger to me. I do not want to digress, 

I walked into this poem unburdened by the beauty of nature, so

I kiss a smile to the nightjars and the crickets violining me

Towards ecstasy, while I bare my body, fall like a debris of star into

water —the only time I have ever fallen in love.