Arike,
Your dimples carve a pathway to your craved
utterances, and serve as the gateway to the
heaven of your alluring smile.
Tonight seems too much of a hare,
but in the morrow's night, I'll take the pace of
a tortoise in gracing your cheeks' succulence.

Arike,
Like the snail longs for water,
to spring from its shell,
I long for your hydrating touch
for my dehydrated desires.
You are like a nonpareil under an
ocean of suitors' tongues,
while my words may seem like drizzles of water,
but look beyond my utterances to
behold my genuine intentions.

Culled from "Arike" by Makinde Damilola Peter.

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