Bukola's Dance

show me the bàtá in your laugh— how your ribs drum when joy arrives unannounced, like Sango’s children playing with thunder. Let my feet borrow rhythm from your breath. Let your exhale teach me how to move— not with pride, but with prayer. Teach me to dance like your heart is the talking drum— du-du for your secrets, pa-ta for your memories. Every pause, a proverb; every beat, a scripture carved in flesh. Don’t laugh too hard— you know my steps are orphaned. But I’ll follow your hips like the moon obeys her tides, like cowries follow river flow. Tó bá ki jó mólè, let it be for you. Let it be for the night you smiled and called my name like an oríkì you weren’t supposed to remember.