₦airaland Forum

As she bend reaching for the broken pen out of her pulse
Starring at the middle line shape of her breastfeeding arouse my emotions
Dangling around in chain of what not to do

The scorching sun burns through my skin in fever
So thirsty I presumed it was
With sweat dripping down from beneath my bald head
She rises to her stand staring at my innocent eye

The dark preacher humming softly
While the sacred house close to the mosque
With both door opened slammed shut by her first word
. Bald like the winter soldier
My bald hair grows wild and wide of word to describe
As do the words out of my mouth
Banished out from beneath my tongue
I know you not
But like the falling star I await your landing at my stairs