These Butterflies Don’t Fly, Poetry by Damilola Jonathan Oladeji

I’d like to be a butterfly
And flutter into your room
Tell you how the wind blows
Cause I feel it in my arms
And it’s pointing me your way.

I’d like to say I miss you
But we’ve only been human
With limbs so heavy that we hide
Behind our prison doors
Waiting till the storm is o’er.

To be a butterfly is a charm
Cause you never have to stay
You flick a wing and you are home
You flick another and you are by your lover
The only prison you’ve had to bear
Is the one that was a womb.

I have butterflies in my belly
Dying everyday for lack of flight
Eager to find the wind
But cramped up in mirthless dungeons
Of stomach acid and fermentation.

If I was a butterfly
I’d fly away to you
I would wake up in your bed
With kisses for your lips
And sweet nonsense for your ears alone.

I’d tell you tales of rivers
Blanket of forests and
Sandstorms
I would tell you stories of war
All of which I attended.

If I was a butterfly
I would amuse you with mysteries
Scarcer than the oasis of the earth
Rarer than the eye of a storm
I would be wild and free
Unafraid to tell you of my desires
Of me and you
By rivers still
By the waves of seas
Fluttering in and out of bliss.

I would be a butterfly
If you were
But here we are
Locked in and miles apart
Wishing for love to linger
Hoping that the curfew will end
Waiting for the closing bell.

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