Iyanuoluwa Adenle
Practise
& i tried to imagine birds with words in their tiny beaks
perched on the roof of my mother's house.
except that birds don't just perch on rooftops. they are drawn
by words, they said.
except that no story is ever as it is told.
last spring:
i was calling birds to the history of
songs lost in my mother's throat.
trying and failing to fill up
the orifice of her wounds with the scent of peonies.
i didn't know how frightened i was of drowning until it was
just me on a dinghy in the middle of the sea.
& all my years of
practicing drowning became smoke.
you didn't know how long you had been quiet until now. & all
your years of practicing silence seemed almost theatrical.
come sunset:
the birds will ride high on the wind home; lighter.
at sunset, imaginary curtains will fall:
your heart heavier with your preference for silence and
mine, pumped with fear for anything with wings & the water.
both, larger than our lives.
perched on the roof of my mother's house.
except that birds don't just perch on rooftops. they are drawn
by words, they said.
except that no story is ever as it is told.
last spring:
i was calling birds to the history of
songs lost in my mother's throat.
trying and failing to fill up
the orifice of her wounds with the scent of peonies.
i didn't know how frightened i was of drowning until it was
just me on a dinghy in the middle of the sea.
& all my years of
practicing drowning became smoke.
you didn't know how long you had been quiet until now. & all
your years of practicing silence seemed almost theatrical.
come sunset:
the birds will ride high on the wind home; lighter.
at sunset, imaginary curtains will fall:
your heart heavier with your preference for silence and
mine, pumped with fear for anything with wings & the water.
both, larger than our lives.
Biography
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Iyanuoluwa Adenle (she/her) is a poet and essayist from Nigeria. Her works have appeared or are forthcoming in Empty Mirror, One Jacar Press, Lolwe and elsewhere. She tweets at @teleayo_
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