​Conversations that happen in my sleep

A Poem by Ayomide ‘Wes Oriolowo

If you look closely in my mouth 
You will see flowers 
Come closer, look closely, 
They are dead. Dig your hand in my throat 
Find my voice / this might be me calling for help / 
Careful – you are there for me 
Don’t lose yourself. It might seem 
 fa-mi-li-ar 
You might like it there 
         That’s fine. I do too / sometimes. / 
Death is just another way of breathing / when you are broken
You can fit in new spaces. / Tell me something,
Don’t you feel it on your tongue when we kiss?
         That taste of dark soil 
Do you spit it out? 
         That’s fine; I do too / sometimes. /
Now you see why I don’t wear clothes
Why I tend to be found 
Only in dark corners
What is the power of the Sun
         on a darkness 
That only houses itself 
in the body.