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November 17, 2021


Adedayo Agarau

in that dream,
you are carrying
a bucket of water
from the backyard
to the kitchen where
our mother called you
at the top of her voice
& as you rushed through
the small dark corridor
of the old brown house
we used to live in ogunleye
you slipped & fell & laid
there, silent in the way
language forsakes the
tongue; the ship  of
your body unable
to turn itself