shades of brown

by Fiyinfoluwa Timothy Oladipo

if I could wake up this morning
and find five shades of brown
nestled under the furry pine leaves
of hanged angel wings

I would first go to the cathedral
and press my brown fingers
into the brown paint
and my thumbs against all the ceramic cheeks
and the stained glass
till they all look
like how I imagined them to be
when I was six

then I would stand outside
and hunt down the crystallised raindrops
and drown them in the thick fluid
and then release down the lines of my palms.

after an hour of warming up
against the frost of the white winter,
I would call my brown uncle
and place him into a red fat suit
with his loose strands of elderly hair
that are strangled out of his skin,
and use my seventeen shades
to paint the image
of a brown Santa.