God has a big mouth; opens & the earth shakes before he swallows—another day has ended & he hasn’t taken my life—he’s either letting me fatten to his taste or he has a purpose for me; before I sleep, I invite all the angels back into my life; I ask for God’s wings over me, I’m not sure he has any, but I ask anyway—I mean, I don’t know them that well—I don’t even know their surname or what gender they are; are they even called God?—I know God is full of surprises, still I assume I will die in my sleep, so I put everything right before sleep steals me: arrange the table, lay the bed, sweep the floor of the fallen hair, of the used condoms & every evidence of sin; anoint the feet & head & admit transgressions & ask they be forgiven; weep a little, let them be real—God reads hearts.
I am Achilles or I am Anokye, but the prophecy says I will die in my sleep—so I stay awake until I cannot; it is 12:07 am and the family witches meet so I sleep after their meeting, 3:43 am, or 6:52 am on the days they delay; what I fear is not my death, it is my living—the possibility of becoming something I may never become—If it was possible, I’d die—like Ananse & witness what burial & what celebration I’m given; return from wherever the dead go, on the third day or fortieth because I need the rest that death likely offers, & block those that need blocking & love those who need loving, better.
When the prophet asked: Are you an Archbishop?—why are so many angels following you?—I giggled because I hired them on my way to the temple like I do every night; I am not sure what they take in return but I will do everything for the prophet not to project my sins; when I saw my friend die in a dream, I prayed & fasted for days so he would live—when bullets rained on my body in a dream, I treated my wounds in the morning & rested.
My faith is in forms that don’t require truths or lies, that freedom is what I seek—like playing Bethel Music or Hillsong United through the loudspeaker as I listen to J Hus or Kendrick Lamar or M.anifest or Shatta Wale or SZA or Rihanna or Cina Soul or Buju through the headphones at the same time—like God, my father & I do not agree on everything & though we love ourselves, I love the silence that follows each I love you—God has a big mouth & if I should die in my sleep, I wouldn’t want any Ghanaian to know where I am going—I want to move like the silence before we travel overseas.
