The first time I told a girl I love her I had to repeat and stretch; it is a joke; it is a joke nigga… Why? My mother said I am my father’s appearance, and like him I am not capable of loving a thing. In this poem, let me first describe my mother as [fill in the gap as you please]. The memory I have of my mother are insults and [fill in the gap as you please]. Some mornings    I stand before the mirror to see the kind of man my father is. My mother delicately says I am too silent to be tolerated. I do not know if I miss you, father but I know that birthdays are reminders for what we have lost. Fuck! I miss you dad     I really miss you    I miss you by my breath. If this poem is a wishing machine, I wish you were here as I held this glass in celebration of another year. To think, I do not know your face   father but I have a world of gist for you. I want to tell you that I made it. I fell in love. But she walked away from me too. I asked her /what do you want? what do you want my love? She opened her mouth as if she chokes. I said here is water. take. drink. Here is cake; eat. be well. Here is a flower   beautiful like you. She said: take your curse, digest your sorrow, own your misery. I guess she never lied / maybe my mother was never wrong.

Ayobami Adesina is a closing student of social work at the University of Ilorin, Nigeria. He resides in an isolated apartment where he laughs all day at memes on Twitter via @aiadesina.