the becoming of unbecoming

And when she finally put the mortar and pestel down.

She knew he would be happy.

Maybe he would finally love her. He would pull her close.

He might even buy her gold, a gold chain? A gold bracelet? Perhaps even a ring to match?

Oh, but this didn’t really matter. After all, gold was gold, abi?

 

 

She had been working so long.

But she knew that his happiness was going to bring about hers too.

After all, who was she, without him?

Ade ori mi

She pounded a few more times making sure it really had become dust.

The sun bore her witness and the wind wiped her sweat.

 

 

Tightening her iro, she rose.

He peered in. She wondered why he had made her do it, but quickly banished the thought.

It was crazy to wonder; even to ponder what a woman should want dreams for, hopes, and expectations.

He had made her put each an every one of hers, into the mortar and pound them all to dust.

He told her what was his was hers.

But all she had was herself now, so she was his.

 

 

 

Author: Iwalewa

Well, I've always had a passion for writing. I would describe myself as a feminist, a womanist and a humanist. Poetry is something I've developed a great passion for. Apart from that, I also spend time reading...although this might make me come about sounding like an introvert, I still like to think of myself as an extrovert! I love making new friends and meeting new people. I hope this blog allows others to share and enjoy my work and hopefully share their views and opinions about various issues :)

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