Your body is a house of god. Or a collection of boys.
By Mbanefo Chibuike
& you were twelve when a boy first called you baby -
& you ran into the eye of the night. Your body learns
how to hold names on Fridays and whip them into
the confession box two days later. Your body wishes
coyness isn't flirtatious - how a house of god is a good girl
& a bad girl is a collection of boys. But Handel's Hallelujah
is a god’s song you hum before giving a lover this body.
The first time you picked pieces of your heart, ducking
on your tears, your fingers wandered towards your vulva
& you watched the emptiness fill you. Mother could be right -
a girl's body is a way into suffering /and shadow of a god,
it reminds you how pain and pleasure pass in a funeral
& what everyone says about a woman being "too sexual."
In the church, a priest drums into brittle walls,
the dangers of promiscuity /and his tone
betrays your frustration, your body is unlearning shyness
& there's no canvas to paint the beauty of sex.
But you cannot continue to hide your desires on cold nights
so that a husband calls you chaste /and your body falls
into the house of this god while he's into another woman's.
You choose to express yourself for what you couldn't
remember is broken - the satisfaction or sin - /and the pieces
of boys flung into your lips on the altar of a god & society.
Read More about the Author Here - www.nigerianwriters.info/mbanefo-chibuike