She was a boy,
and her multi-colored eyes draw light from the sun
to form rainbows, each falling on green grass,
marking the end of the sea with
a color wheel’s margin and it drew lines all over her skin.
She runs in between shadows,
one of them grows to be the son of a cobbler,
the other part she hates the most:
being a girl.
she ran through the center.
She had been deceived so she believes
not everyone feels pain –
some only die and find peace at the feet of philosophers,
and it’s sad – it’s sad
to think of broken girls.
Sometimes, just sometimes, it’s better to live
in two different worlds.
At least, broken girls don’t cry in both worlds
& that was what she was trying to say
when she tore her attire in a market place,
“I left the other side of me under the sea”
It was still day, a minute past ten pm.
It all looks the same on the outside
until a snap of fingers draws you into daylight;
the feeling of waking, it’s gentle reminder.
It all feels real –
the emotions, the memories, the painting, her eyes.
But it’s scary when you begin to describe
nightmares to a stranger
and she says,
“I’ve been in your head before”.
after Lana Del Rey’s ‘Lust for Life’
Two hearts can lead to many places
but there was a brave man standing in front of yours
saying you were homeless, though his voice was ambient
& fading; the sound of colors striking the sea.
Grandmother always said young men can’t love;
that a woman’s body is many things –
I remember her saying things like banshee and artefacts,
like a place where lust and karma are paintings
on the body of naked women. Maybe it was her cocktail
speaking but she did say two things,
you know how deep a man loves
by the way he handles a glass of wine.
when a lady sits in front of you with her legs crossed,
it means she likes choir and
her body knows the language of singing.
Poems © Anthony Okpunor
Image: Pixabay.com remixed