Portrait of Time as a Surgeon
I am up at night again, wondering why
the ones I cherish abandon a dagger in
the den of my chest.
Because memory, too, is a blade—
whenever I shut my eyes to attempt sleep,
I feel her laughter cleave me clean.
Elohim, teach me to forget.
I thought the knife had left the wound, but
the flesh still hallucinates its metallic grip.
O how do I unhand the thing that holds me?
Elohim, teach me to forget.
I trust healing only works after you alter
memory, so if I am distracted from a wound,
surely my blood will silver.
Show me how to misremember a face.
To make a name break like a syllable
removed from the tongue;
break / like a threading
loosing around my throat.
Biography
Samuel A. Adeyemi is a young writer from Nigeria. His poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Palette Poetry, Frontier Poetry, 580 Split, Leavings Lit Mag, Kissing Dynamite, The Shore, The Rising Phoenix Review, Paper Crane Journal, Afro Literary Magazine, Jalada, and elsewhere. When he is not writing, he enjoys watching anime and listening to a variety of music. You may reach him on Twitter and Instagram @samuelpoetry