KÉKERÉ

Photo Credit: Fihintography

Kékeré

This one thing, I ask of you,

Even as we lock ourselves in each others' arms

Savouring the heat of our passionate embrace

Not minding the presence of the onlooking Silhouettist

Nor him closely watching behind his anxious lens,

Contemplating whether or not 

To present our glorious bodies like dark shapes

Against the setting sun,

Tell me, now face to face

That you won't join your peers who claim

 "all men are the same"

That you won't join them in propagating such derogatory remark about people like me

People like me who have guard your heart with utmost care

People like me who take your love as priority

People like me who see your smile on every cloud

Your reflection on every window

People like me who wish you were part of my ribs so I'd never have to spend a day without you

Tell me, tell me

 Though I am might not worthy to be called a man yet

But boys in the end, become men

The mustard seed of our love in the end, grow to become the largest tree in the vineyard.

Those remarks hurt

They sadden

And eventually destroy

Kékeré

I know I have defects

I make mistakes

And I have faults

But that's what makes us human right?

We are not perfect

We do what we always do

Battle our defects

Correct our mistakes

And rise again

We are not perfect

And I am proud to fall into that category

©Olaleye Bolu