Olúwafèyíṣarámi

clothed in every shade of color and adorned in only the wrappers befitting to a bride every style, every texture, every hue to wring out the perfection in you... ... but our hands now, are tied; you are best left naked; untouched; and in jail, untried; as a stillborn, your birth never saw the light of day. dead; on that tearful sunny day three years ago. phabrique.

... the barren black desert spread wide before me the ocean of sand swallows me in its expanse,i squint yet i still am, the barren. let those who see spread their hem to hang me on, till i conceive a lamp for my stand. give me water in the desert; as u have done before, so let mine be let the barren be with child give me a lamp for my stand. phabrique.  

It is not a game Nor a fluke It is called symbiosis The entwinement of our spirits Lost in the peculiarity of our being Which we must die to what we own And live in the ordinary Just to be accepted by walking eyes And talking ears. phabrique.