today, my lips wear gospel like a balm,
like a sky carrying a colonnade of rainbow —
a panacea glosses over it like
dewdrops on a tulip’s field.
today, I glide in the heart of an infant,
I clasp joy in my palms like an egg —
joy is a fragile thing.
today, let joy be joy
and not any word that lacerates
with a heavy consonant.
today, I untick the chaos
of mementos, spruce the
wind into a cavalcade of goodwill.
today, I sap peace from God’s nostrils —
a compensation for the mornings
that strapped from clacks of guns.
today, I peel my skin at the tomb
of grief like a wounded snake
rambling for healing,
I prune my throat into
the halcyon of a birdsong,
forage my belly for darkness
that hovers at the genesis
of my brokenness.
today, my lips wear a gospel,
let peace be peace and not
my body shrieking in homophone.
Samuel Victor Ajani is a black writer and poet. He was a Semi-finalist at the 2020 Jack Grapes Poetry Prize and was shortlisted for the 2020 Kreative Diadem Annual Writing contest. He reads for Bluebird Review magazine. He is one of the contributors to SPRINNG Afro-eros anthology. His recent works are/forthcoming on Snapdragon journal, RIGOROUS, East French Press, Eremite, The Shallow Tales Review PRAXIS mag, The Hellebore lit mag, Augment Review, and elsewhere. Say hi to him on Twitter @solvic16.