Every night before bed my lover’s mouth writes an essay.
Sometimes his tongue swirls words of admiration and lust on my skin.
But last night he read me his heart through the phone. I’d been crying the past few weeks during our calls.
Last night I didn’t sob, “I miss you! I want to come home. My body hungers for your touch.”
Last night I whispered honey fulfilment into his ears. In return he told me not of his day, or traffic or numerous political theories. He told me words like molten chocolate.
Delicious. Decadent. Dripping.
Arousing compliments and orgasmic reassurance. I unabashedly moaned and sighed.
Every night I sleep off on a phone call. I’m grateful to be satiated and satisfied. Adoringly patted to sleep by his chuckles as I deny dozing off. His soothing voice caressing my chubby cheeks.
To the people who betrayed our trust.
For the shock and crippling pain.
Thank you, for making us stand regal.
When you are in pain it’s so instinctive to lash out. You want closure. Comfort.
But I’ve learnt that instead of withdrawing.
Process the pain but don’t carry the guilt of the traitor. Never do that. Forgive yourself.
When you are too tired of the heaviness. Tired of tears. Exhale the pain.
When you are in pain. Living can be healing.
I just braved the Yola sun after my ice cream date to pick up my gift copy of Self Apology by poet, blogger Ezinne Ogwumah. SELF APOLOGY is a collection of short poetry, epigrams and sketched illustrations which talk about self recovery from depression, anxiety, stress and emotional issues by practising the natural act of self love.
Thank you Ezinne and Nnamdi for getting this second copy to me after the first one got lost in delivery at Ikorodu. It was interesting visiting Jambutu Park in Yola. A whole different aspect of the city..and this time I didn’t get missing like last week Monday evening. Yo! Pidgin English is saving me out here o.
Can’t wait to flip through this collection, sniff its pages and fall in love with its words. Hope your Sunday is going great Gems.
I asked the heavens and they let me.
I picked out two stars,
I put one underneath the ruby on your crown.
The other silver one I dipped into the prayers your mother tossed into the sea.
Slowly I crumbled gleaming stardust.
On you, your skin, your soul.
When life is deem and you are sinking into darkness.
Brighten! Hug yourself. Shine through.
You have always been a star.
I asked the heavens and they say you brew stars in your skin.