Written by Olalekan Daniel Kehinde
In the beginning, God created man
and saw that he was as lonely as a deserted path,
so He mixed fresh dust with a potion of sun,
and carved some contoured shapes beside its torsos.
He sprinkled some sweat on it like Catholic baptism
and beat two blisters out of its chest for the salvation of man.
Life was not yet in it because there was not yet the touch
of lust that shaped its waist into what beads could bear.
God was a poet, so He put metaphors in it before life;
He put sun, butterflies, and a thin pathway to salvation in it.
Breath of life then fell on it, a ripe pawpaw; matching metaphor
for a fair artwork whose skin blended with the waking of the sun.
It metamorphosed into a woman and fell on earth
but her feet did not stumble, instead they were soft as tissues
and her eyes were epistles of beauty, fireflies of radiant colour,
glimmering hope in the depressed sides of the lonely man.
When God was done, He rested from every other work
and beheld that all He had imbued in her were great.