If I could make butterflies out of my brain,
I would let them fly to the night stand,
Breathe from the light and perch on your feet,
I would make them rise, flap their wings,
Spray you with pixie dust while you sleep.
There is nothing more farrier than you,
There is no better sweet-pain like the heartache
That sends me back to your arms on a Sunday morning.
If I could watch you sleep, watch you dream;
About me flying you through moorland,
I would be a hero gabbed in torrents and torrents of energy,
Fly through Shaghai, New York, Belfast, Katima Mulilo and all those shiny cities
Thoughts and thoughts of shenanigan
I would let the butterfly touch your lips,
Watch your eyes lashes link like a falling leave,
But baby the struggle is real and this isn’t a fairyland,
So we dust ourselves and brace for the worst.
My favorite souvenir is a quartz stone my lover gave to me when I first met her. I have carried it around for two years now, from city to city. Whenever I am low on energy, I turn to it, and it works. The magic I believe is in remembering the beautiful moments we spent together.
Chika Onyenezi is a writer living in United States. Born in Owerri, Nigeria, he holds two degrees, including an MA from European Peace University. His work has appeared, or is forthcoming in Identity Theory, Litro Magazine, Off the Coast, Storytime, Munyori Literary Journal, Synchronized Chaos, PoeticDiversity Quarterly, Bombay Review Anthology, African Roar Anthology, Best of African Roar Anthology, and elsewhere. He spends most of his time daydreaming, and collecting wish trinket from sea waves.