Kehinde-Margret Makinde

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Kehinde-Margret Makinde
Tuesday 30 August 2022

A She I Know

I remember when she found her best lead, 

In brave sperm on the shoulders of an iconic egg,

Ready to for life with a different understanding, 

Episode by episode, till the water broke.

By the seat belt, her mum gave her feet;

By dreams, 

celestial realms gave muscles to her nirvana ideas, 

While she was still entertained 

by milk and sparkled in diapers,

While she was still realizing the World’s front doors, 

from their barks and backs.


Like a seed, she was tendered by her father,

Night and day, as fruits, flowers, and flour, 

In ecstasies of worth and totems, 

Of all the women she is tenderly beginning to be.


I remember then, 

curves, curls, cravings, courses, cervix, and circuits 

Featured her subconscious essence, of immortal customs, 

Round her crust without cost. 

Lovely were the costly subscriptions of her foster parents, 

For a show of her dreams, the circumstances of her leap, 

And mirror and science of her gender,

Till Economics broke her way 

In mortal want of beasts down her x-axis,

Till Hell chauffeur demons and legions, 

to be existing elements and witnesses to her change,

For her pleasures and appetites, 

for the style of research and realms down the y-axis,

in their high-standing stories, spoken from standards of entities.


Curiosity sought her vessel 

for bread and complexities down the z-axis

In every portal, till her streams wailed 

louder than fire at its last breath, 

water perpetually bruised, 

And air choked in its existence, by mortal experience, 

Till meaning of life, in the femininity of existence,

As a tree reduced to its roots.


Till she was afraid to give her stalks sweet sprouts.




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