Agbomma

Seasoned on our lips
And in the imageries
That crafted beauty
In the soul of sight
Is Agbomma.

The droplet of light
Follows the path
The ebony planted
On an African skin.

Agbomma,

Watching by the river side
Are the river weeds
Calling out the air
That enlivens the water
To follow your silent scream
Scavenged by scavengers of womanhood.

Beneath your waist
Are rushing memories of pain
Screams and inhumanity.

Agbomma,
Will you agree
If I walk through fire for you?