It’s noon. You search for ways to unstitch a heart
From your heart. You’re drowning in a dream of breaking.
You hum wishes

To the leftovers of encouragement on a plate of ennui adorned
With your tears—an unholy communion of disillusionment.

This is how you wish you could unhand yourself
From loss, & unlove & unwane &

Flee from the bayonets poking your body from the hands of every
Preternatural voice that calls you unworthy.
//
There is fire in the wind & that’s how you know it’s night
In a country trying to quell herself

From war. You wear yourself into rosewater & you
Spread your arms to the raging sky—waiting for a body to

Fall into your arms, & let you squeeze some of your life into it.
This is how you say everything that leaves

Wanders in the stratosphere

---

Muhammed Sanni Olowonjoyin, TPC III, has poems published in Brittle Paper, Aôthen Magazine, Acropolis Journal, The Kalahari Review, Salamander Ink Magazine, and elsewhere. He tweets @APerSe_