darkness warned her how the night
clothes itself with danger. but
she like a deaf fly
flew into the night.
from the web of darkness,
they crawled into her. ate her up
like a cake baked for the night.
her voice ran into streets but
help has gone to bed.
squeezed into loaves.
sliced into pieces.
the night has laid upon her a scar,
a story that murders the heart.
MAKING A BOY MAN
aunty Caro said, love
is for boys. sex
for a boy to be a man. then
he must learn to play the game of men.
a boy is but a sheep. she, my shepherd.
in her room was a slaughter.
aunty said, the rules of the game
rule one: lay on me.
rule two: run on me.
my tongue rolled into a slippery slope
where words gain no balance,
the games of men
are not meant for boys” I muttered
“I thought you were a man
now I know you are not” she said.
Poems © Paul O. J.
Image: Pixabay.com remixed