woman wearing white sleeveless lace shirt

A medallion is a small thing

by Oluwadare Popoola

For Michael Olajumoke


Joys come in measured orders,

and when you arrived from the desert,

I saw the geysers of a stream

in your eye,

carrying a desolation.


Your body is the utopia for a measure of desolation,

because you, a woman

is the lush of a countryside

built from the war.


Your body, an epigram

points in the direction of love

like the torn legs of a war-struck thing

still picking an abode in disarmament.


And in your songs,

if joy were a small thing,

it would be stuck between your sadness.


Source: From the Isolation Issue (September 2020)


OLÚWÁDÁRE PÓPÓỌLA is a poet or so he thinks, a student of Microbiology and a Sportswriter for a media company. He writes from a city by the rocks and longs to see the world without discrimination of any form. He is learning how images are made from words and his poems are up/forthcoming on Mineral Lit. Magazine, Headline Poetry & Press, Feral: A Journal of Poetry & Art and ang(st)zine.



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