Poetry / Fisayo Adeyeye

The block remembered each boy / she had pushed screaming / into the light / but sometimes she forgot / the hang of their clothes, / the shape / of their spines, pushing back / against the cotton / My father spread the anointing oil / on my forehead before school / and I walked around all day with / his fingerprints on my face / my antennae flickering down towards / my mouth / sweetness and / salt. After we were cloned / I felt the many parts breathe / expand inside of me. I pressed / a tongue back and the animal snapped like / it was bred to be here. Remember / the sound our bodies made / as we moved in channels through / one another. Burnt sugar, babies / bandaged after birth / The block had seen / a million / just like us.

Fisayo Adeyeye is an MFA candidate at San Francisco State University, and has had works published by Little River, Potluck Magazine, and Have U Seen My Whale.