Chastity lost playing house




Our ears were still wet

and so was the appetite of our curiosity.

Our little minds asked big questions 

our nimble hands sought answers.

 

Preadolescent nymphs, frying plantain and eggs. 

Their eggs and my seeds had not formed yet.

 

Trees of knowledge spring 

from curiosity's seeds.

Many are the species of trees 

in the woods of awareness.

 

First came the landlord's daughter 

then the two sisters. 

Would an aunt's discovery save us? 

Were we too far gone?

 

Curiosity smothered innocence. 

Crooked branches sprouted from trees 

which were yet seedlings 

germinating in soils 

of adult cravings. 


It was done in the dark.

We could not turn back.

The dark was clothed outside with daylight.

 

The maid sealed my fate.

Shadowy consort of two cousins.

I tottered towards puberty

sworn to secrecy, of enchanting impurity.

 

Darkened, by the richness of humus

below the plain clay atop its coming growth 

the seedling pushes through topsoil 

of land, house, being and the world.

 

…shaped by what had been,

fighting for life which sheds what it had been

to become what it could be.


(c) Baba Aye (2021) Drafts of Becoming

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