We’ll start over again and again
The black soot in your heart
Peeled to the last layer
We’ll reminisce the beginnings
Before love become sour
And a lover became a villain
Let’s cry over what we lost
And cry some more for what we kept
So many spices got us lost
As the wind threw the scent
In wrong directions
You wanted us to be the best
So you aped the TV woman
An ass like J-LO
And lips like Jolie
I knew I lost you
A bigger ass spurred your insecurities
As broad lips lied to you
That you needed better
Now, I lay with you here
My heart broken
My faith shaken
How could they spoil my African Woman?
Whom will you love?
The media or me?
One day I’ll master enough strength
To spell your absence
And live with the reality
I’ll mask the heart you’ve hurt
This stupid heart that yearns
And aches for the gentleness of your words
Words that would weave an insult into berries
And serve them as thanks
For the travails I put you through
I guess I fell for a cerelac babe,
no wonder our relationship has teething problems
I pray for a day when your smile will be lengthy enough to fill the gap between our expectations and reality
There comes a day when reality will spill on the pages of our lives, when your heart will shrink to encapsulate the little I offered. And we’ll weep why love always is an improper fraction, weighty expectations on malnourished shoulders
There comes a day when we’ll sculpt the hollowness of ‘I love you’ and give more meaning to love than wet pants and muffled moans
Dear men, Never take it for granted if a woman loves you, especially if she is the type whose door has got knuckles of hundreds of men bleeding but she chose to open only for you
Love, If You’ve got to flee
Leave the door open
That this hollowness may follow you
She wanted a star for a lover
I shone so bright laming the moon
Turning her bed into erotica furnace
I have been sitting here listening to everything in general but nothing in particular; cypher of morning birds, chit-chatter of women downstairs and innocent giggles of babies but none of these has helped me in quelling the inferno inside of me. There’s something missing that I really need to complete this equation, something surreal, something gentle, I can feel the need erupting like a volcano inside the deepest part of me, the feeling of coldness, and the gentle touch of fragile fingers and soft prickles of nails on my back. Restrained appetites to indulge, to swim freely into the seas of mutual satisfaction, I relive every moment we spent with gist of longing. That night wasn’t to be in the first place but it’s the most memorable night I have had in the past two years, the floor was cold, the night was icy, we wrapped ourselves in a duvet but still my teeth rattled. The thought of what would unfold or not unfold got my skin fold in goose bumps.
You held me, I squeezed you. I teased you and you cried. You told me you don’t have good memories of such intimate gestures. I wiped your tears with the back of my hands, vexed that I was cleaning a mess some fucker created but melancholy knows no man, I felt the sexual rush being replaced by a sense of gentleness and vulnerability that I have never felt before any woman, my tears dropped on the tip of your nose and that did nothing to stop yours. You held me closer, tightened the hold and then kissed me deeply like my lips would erase all the misdeeds of the fucker you mistakenly took for a lover. I watched as a night of romance was turning into a bereavement therapy. Even as your eyes flooded with tears and crow’s feet formed beneath them, your beauty was unperturbed; you still shone.
I carried you to your bed and laid you to rest as I questioned the degree of immorality it would be to sleep with an emotionally burdened. Would that be taking advantage of the situation? Yes, we slept but we never sampled fruits of nature until the magic phrase ‘I need you in but am afraid’ surfaced at about 5:30 am. I peeled your clothes, you peeled mine. We were naked and it felt like paradise, naked seemed everything unlike what Adam could want to hide from. We crossed the border. My thoughts are still anchored to the events of that night and for the first time in four good years I feel like I’m missing someone; someone who reminded me what it felt like to be in love again after years of picking pieces of broken heart.