Oya

God of my father discovered at midnight
my mother asleep on her thunders
my father
returning at midnight
out of tightening circles of anger
out of days’ punishment
the inelegant safety of power
Now midnight empties your house of bravado
and passion sleeps like a mist
outside desire
your strength splits like a melon
dropped on our prisoners floor
midnight glows
like a jeweled love
at the core of the broken fruit.

My mother is sleeping.
Hymns of dream lie like bullets
in her nights weapons
the sacred steeples
of nightmare are secret and hidden
in the disguise of fallen altars
I too shall learn how to conquer yes.
Yes yes god
damned
I love you
now free me
quickly
before I destroy us.