You are a boy with no feet

Yet you keep wandering away from us

Come back here, hear us say who you are

And then we’ll want to hear you say, amen 

 

It’s another night again

Shayo is cold and his silence is crowded

He’s been thinking about ending it all

The long days that pour themselves on us

Too broken to allow us to be who we exist 

 

How do I gather music to tell Muhammad too

That he is born to wear someone else’s life

Dress in their socks and shoes

Then spray their perfume, all over him

A disguise that the market women will notice

They’ll call him a woman with a man’s erection

 

And the school boys he’d want to play with

They will throw sand in his sandwich 

Mimic how his hips sway on their way home

Tell him who he is before he knows it himself

 

His mother would raise her hands on her head

The next day she’ll pour the concoction the priest brewed

Shove its entirety in his dried mouth, then

Ask him if his inside textures have changed

This’ll be before his uncle Ensa whips his backside

With a reflection to retain him over the years

Then condition him to be man-like, like him

 

Shayo, Shayoo, Shayooo

How many times have I called you?

Listen, I’ll pray it out of you if I need to

You will not bring shame to this compound 

Our neighbours would never witness our bleeding

God forbid your ruination drag us by our lotioned legs

 

You know how to call shame by its first name

And invite her to sit with our good reputation

Those white men and their movies you watch

Don’t let them colonize you, do you hear me

Do I hear you say amen

 

It’s another night again

Shayo is cold and his silence is crowded

He’s been thinking about ending it all

The long days that pour themselves on us

Too broken to allow us to be who we exist 

 

I know pain very well

I blink and it comes running

Blooms in my blood like peonies

Slices a heart and leaves loose ends stranded

Retires its wounds and healings on all that I touch

And when I look in the mirror I see its vicious face

Drooling its endless aches all over my silky sheets

 

How can I save myself without leaving a trace?

A spill, a giggle, a last name, a poem, a footprint

A target, and their sharp-edged tool on my back

 

How can I live a life and not leave

A reminder of ever having to exist, here.