Adebayo Samuel
and I would gently enter into that dream, wide awake,
my feet blueing
my father is pressing himself against another woman
who is not my mother, shooting stars
my vein is white, which is to say I have bled enough
blood, enough trauma in my childhood.
my mother is puzzled, she doesn’t know how to spell distrust.
she says her father, and her father’s father were good men.
this is a poem about good men, which is to say my father
is absent here, which is also to say in my mother’s sleep,
she is crying. once, I asked my mother for my name
while we picked beans for dinner and instead, she put
water in my mouth, swallow it: she said, and I did.
and then I purpled, elegy forming on my lips, lips breaking to
leak blood, my father’s palm unfolding from a punch,
punch lifting from lip, mother’s lip in turn swallowing a cry.
sometimes, my mother would tear away like a page,
half-written, tears filming her eyes, night carpooling
around her skin while I’d welcome dawn, cold. homeless.
Adebayo Samuel Oluwaseun was born and raised in Ibadan, Nigeria. He is a Christian creative, poet, liberalist, expressionist, and baby Engineer. He studies the humanities and primarily explores the human body and emotions with his writings. His works have been published in Brittle Paper, Kalahari Review, Fiction Niche Magazine (4th issue), NantygreensMagazine, Quibble LiteraryMagazine (6th issue), Ebarts.ng, Akewi Magazine and more. In 2023, he was one of the 75+ select fellows in the SprinNG writing fellowship. He plans to start working on his first poetry chapbook very soon.