She smells of dirt and it grows from her freshness
I lie in her arms and sip myself red wine
I perish  in her like debris  in the ground
I sleep away the spring dark in her embrace.
I sense her through the frames of my dreams,
until joyous birdsong breaks my sleep
and the morning sun streams through the window
She opens her eyes and find my carcass.
*

By Williamsji Maveli


Email:williamsji@yahoo.com