Afara

time lapse as we all fall faster than raindrops
to scramble at the bottom to find glues that would have saved us
had we known.
But expiry dates on times with friends come carefully obscured,
each new death scarifying our imperative
with exclaiming marks striking home and rising streams raging beneath,
crashing to surface finally amid reliquaries of drum circles
tolling dirges for us
faster,
and faster.
But you find me.

You raise your hand out to me, and let me cross.

© Tolu Oloruntoba
11.03 pm, October 10, 2014