This poem is not talking about oldness
running into the palms of newness,
This poem is oldness itself,
running into the palms of newness;
fulfilling the words of the preacher
Time to be born once and to die once:
Time to be born again and to die again,
such that whatsoever falls off and on
becomes an old city telling three tales:
of those things that died inside of us,
of those things that continued living
and of those things that started living.
Sometimes, my body becomes full
like a basket of fresh tomatoes, and
it starts to fall out of broken skins.
My body falls to the soil like flakes,
just to pick another body with flames.
My palms wipe off old sights, words,
acts, places, spaces and even faces,
as they draw in everything new again.
And pieces become peace in a dark room.
Temidayo Opeyemi Jacob is a Nigerian writer and photographer. His works have appeared on NaijaStories, TushStories, some anthologies and some blogs. He blogs at mayorjake.wordpress.com. He is on Facebook as Temidayo Mayor Jake, on Instagram as @spillandspell, and on Twitter as @mayorofajegunle.