Best Served with Quiet by Rachel Yamagata
You remember this?
Our past; riddled with books and beating,
With afternoons of backyard football,
Our blood; swimming in the meat pie we were eating.
Do you remember it?
The eye-service we paraded,
Our bodyguard; it stood tall,
Blocked out Aunty Oyin’s noise,
And the stoning of our house gates.
Do you remember us?
Nights we scrunched our eyes not too tight,
To pass Daddy’s inspections,
Because we watched Africa Magic at night.
Our sin; I’ll keep it to my last light.
Do you remember me?
How I used to be?
A naïve, naked, bigheaded caterpillar,
A decade has passed and I’m still the same.
I remember you
How you used to be,
An arrogant butterfly; larger than life,
So many dreams,
So little time.
I know now we’re all tough and grown,
You seem to have it all together,
But I wish you were a little more childish—
I miss my old big brother.
Do you remember Eze goes to school?
It was the first book Daddy asked me to read.
And I read it on your bunk bed,
It was short, lonely and immature,
But it was the best book I ever read.