They talk about it.
You think it’s cool.
You text home.
The material now costs four times more!
‘Don’t forget the home from whence you came’
Momma should really have tattooed it on your palms.
You were quick to forget.
You weren’t a Saint,
Louise St. John.
You got that yellow dress,
You were full of life.
‘I haven’t tasted alcohol before’
Everybody wanted to buy you a drink.
You knew the clubs in Ikeja like they were your other names.
You directed men from the Island like you were watching the map.
You started picking pens in lecturers offices.
You paid your way through school in kind, kindness of your virtue.
You had been Poisoned, the fearful skull and bones was made a designer logo that attracted you.
Quick to contract the dreaded HIV which AIDS death.
Your poisoned body inspired other girls.
Even in your poison. You were a blessing!