I know they think I didn’t dance
because their music was bad;
my disappointed looks welcomed
their defeated shame
into my body.
They didn’t know I didn’t dance
because that their song of love
replaced with number eight, and
expectations slashed dead
was a story of me.
So their music to me secs ago
made my body feel like a prisoner
hosting chased returnees.
I couldn’t dance to my song
the way they sang it.
Olumurewa Olubela is a young Nigerian writer and speaker. His pieces have appeared on various platforms including The African Writer and is forthcoming in Kalahari Review.