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Jul 2022 · 825
Brother
ogola Jul 2022
"Hold you birds your silver throats, His golden voice I'm seeking"

See,
your voice
your smooth rasping voice
lulls me to sleep

Oh,
    to fall asleep
        in the cozy little caves
        in the valleys
        in the landscape
        of your voice

    to cover the glass, of my
        darkened
        distressed
        debilitated
        eyes
        with the drapes of your voice

    to cover the skin, of my
        caving
        crying
        chilling
        body
        with the quilt of your voice
on listening to my brother singing beside him, when terribly tired.
Jul 2022 · 165
Untitled
ogola Jul 2022
Her love
    grabs me by the reins.
    grasps my heart
       clutching. and letting go.
       clasping. and letting go.
          pumping life.
          teaching me to breathe.

Her name
    music. lofi. song.
    pouring rain. cracking fire.
    hands. holding hands.
    warmth.

Her
    more than
    fibers. sinews.
    skin. flesh.
    bone.

Her
    elegance. freedom. and
    everything I know.

Her
    everything I know
old love
Jan 2021 · 119
Wed, 6 Jan
ogola Jan 2021
There was a time,
I thought that there was more music in the high-pitched giggle of your laugh,
than the chanting of chanticleer at dawn.

I thought,
While stargazing at your honey eyes,
that they had more color,
than the sun's splash of gold in a summer morn

Your head on my shoulder, lips zipped in sleep drawing in your dimples,
I thought,
I was more peaceful than I would have been,
lying in the fold of nature staring through the green web of leaves and branches, into the bluest of bluest skies

I fancied,
that kissing you under the sun's pale imposter,
would set my heart on a gracious ballet,
than serenading myself in a cold bath

I was convinced,
that your love made me more drunk,
than I would ever have been,
on life

But now,
now,
I know better
Nov 2020 · 108
An Ode To Your Feet
ogola Nov 2020
naked,
dangling in the blue wavy ocean water,
I see them, as small as planes of paper,
your feet,
pure, unadulterated,
slapping the water with raw, unbridled passion,
and power,

I see them,
waltzing confusedly,
in the romantic semi-darkness of prom night,
when they knew, you knew not, how to dance.

even now,
in the small hours of the night,
I see them,
flailing unconsciously,
beneath  sheets of silk,

your feet,
meeting mine,
touch,
warmth.

Bless your feet,
that brought you to me.
i already love the feet that will bring my lover to me

— The End —