BODY MASONS

It is that time

That time that monkeys can turn fairies

Aided by the sharp hands of knives

Body masons mix their mortars

Cutting parts of those built by God

And transferring it in pasting, onto other parts

Sometimes injecting bodies like corpses

Hoping to build mounds around areas apt for dancing

Draining parts to evenness for curvy effects

Hoping for doll-like shapes

Oh! Then body paints!

Oh! Body sands, sands to smother

Spirits of scented flowers caught in waters

And pushed into bottles are freed onto man-retouched bodies

Reactivating its lives by calling noses to attentive positions

Whatever knowledge is

Whoever produces the hormones of knowledge

However it pours into the minds of beings

That person is a good destroyer

Abena, I am stunned still watching the global comprehension and acceptance

While trying to juggle the sense it poses

As previous monkeys parade everywhere, with greedy fulfilments

Plastered all over their faces

By amoafowaa