I whisper

 

Photo credit: Pinterest 

By Asmaa Adeleye

She walked up to me,

claimed she was my twin

except for the unequal heights.

She swore, with an emphasis on ‘s’ and ‘w’, she was taller than me

for all the brightness of life,

I still had to squint to see her frantically struggling to be noticed by my flip flops 

She spoke again, maybe to announce a presence not hers

my ears caught a whiff of some of her words 

like a flying, cockroach, giving, golden, motherhood advice

She must have seen me reach for a pesticide

because I looked back to see a needle 

lucky, it had some unusual colours

I think them feathers of a sweet wrap

I bet i was not confused 

just wondered why I was wondering 

I knew i had to glance again

as I heard the door swing

believe me there was 

no door

no swing too

just the certainty of an exit

and an exciting space to breathe 

Do not think it a dream

I will not let you

just my cluttered thoughts forming shapes of reality 

for I drink with my straw horizontal on a normal noon

not the usual vertical suspension, the earth’s culture kind of

there are times I used fanta as the carrier liquid for garri, 

sweets as english groundnut

come to think of it, I would not dispute that Shakespeare might have taken garri once in his lifetime 

now, you must let me tell you how to tell my dreams as mine 

You must let me tell you how surprisingly, my dreams are more of relatable happenings

The last drama I woke up from was the scene of a hen at the hospital 

before me was the sight of doctors.

humans. doctors.

rushing, running, stretchers in a country race

all for the sake of maximum care for a hen in labour 

thankfully, there were no casualties 

the egg slid out too easily

it was a boiled egg. boiled from the womb

I can not say much about how the egg was shared between the doctors 

I stealthily walked out of the approaching commotion

and into the safety of my bed

I would never be a subject to dream ridicule

but last night, I had no dream

I rested my weight on the sofa, taking sips from the cup of sleep 

thirst made me gulp down the bucket, whole 

see, I knew I deserved the pats but

of all the pats my back shook hands with 

sleep handed out none

it frankly did not budge, I testify to nothing but my truth

drowsiness batted no eyelid

You know, I saw it pass me by

trotting with the mischief that it was best at

well, something good came out of this 

I was smart enough to know that sleep is a sly

not always, but at that moment

that moment i needed it the most

my dreams did not desert me

I suppose they saw the sky darken with its promise 

and it probably triggered them to stay with me the more

the first trade of wind blew me westward

into suspension,

and accurately into the beauty of my dreams

the version of dreams that occurs in a land far from sleep

no, the rain was the master muse

a dream come true at the least expected minute

there,

I see me blabbing 

but what better would i do

I felt a need to induce the length of my hands

to hold the hands of others 

whose nights are blank

clear, not drowsy

whose sleeps do come the hard way

no quick rest effect to bear witness of exhaustion 

they take solace in the wild thoughts that comes to keep company 

and when mercy envelopes them.

They meet in an embrace with lively dreams 

throw all worries into the waves of the ocean 

while wishing them away to be crushed 

and slowly swim to the morning 

to see what waves returned to the shore

there,

I hope they hear my voice when I whisper 

‘you are not alone’