untitled in the colour of the times by ADÉYẸMỌ E.O kàkàkíỌgbọ́n

  the way that glowing lamps die in our hands like a rose for emily planted on a famished road punctures all promises that the sun will rise again. & like crimson in the skies, the hidden star that we seek to see turns dimmer than half of a yellow sun. here we are; meshed in dilapidated histories, jagged lacerations & a wonder-world nostalgia; as though in one hundred years of solitude. there was a…

"untitled in the colour of the times by ADÉYẸMỌ E.O kàkàkíỌgbọ́n"