Night Poem by Oludipe Samuel

On these roofs I saw it sat A sullen shadow laced on presage Of dream’s byways. Streams of flesh-wraiths Skyward seized, yet ranged as a tender palm To soothe tasseled vapours on thinning trunk Roam, as all in a martinet. I know nothing Of his manner but rotten shrouds Entwining but never lopped in-between His verdict and my gaze. My eyes are these swollen bags, neurotic As traitors drunk with lone. You must Swathe me now, Night. Ride me upon these draping reins Stale on my lips—of timeless bargains, weaned— Yield dense like the goddess’ chest upon my lids And slowed like your pulse, earth-embossed, slowed, Whetting homeward courses, except that slumber May root catacombs when in kind or as of A charm proving futile as those dreams That levitate behind a cringing nuzzle