To touch your lips before dawn stretches across our skin
Similar to The Creation of Adam

On the eve of your departure

Where whimsical scripts meet sacrosanct words
Wrapping themselves around your tongue
And ripple like kaftans when sung

We hold these truths to be self-evident
And your vision is honest

I refuse suffering your absence amongst the hunger I feel
Cooking up a plan to capture your heart
A pinch of your perspiration's salt
The kiwi sweetness in your sway

Even if you appear in my dreams, although miles away
It's the best homecoming yet.


Ifeanyi N. Okoro II - © 2018

Your stroke paints the blood in my cheek
And your soul is what makes it real
Illuminated by the pangs of idealism
We share this burden's parallelism
But our youthful expenses
Are priceless and uncharted
By the most daring
So let me show you
The way to the bay
To open entries
Of foreign milieus today
Look into my eyes
Under your hair
You're already there

never fails to set
the heart into a
run

when with her
molten fingers she
tames her hair

into a bun

A soul wandering, on unknown path,
Got myself under the piled wrath.

Unknown I was of my own destruction skills,
Finding bliss was my aim, so I took no. Of pills.

All I wanted to accomplish my dreams,
So I covered up my mouth and ate up my anxiety screams.

Wanted to fly high, so I started to crawl,
I didnt knew I was crawling against the squall.

Threw away hard, I picked up my shards,
In dilemma I was, what to do next now ? I dont want my dreams, my wishes to be in graveyard.

Craving for yet another magical happening, moving forward on unknown path,
Unknown of my needs, dynamic was my nature ;
So I kept burdening with loaths.

Now when I look back, I know what I needed,
I allure the way I bridged and struggled.

The things I kept within me,
Searched like a wanderer.


©heeranshimishra

1

malice so gelidly plated
on the day of the parting
an old fading rose not receiving love
her bitter heart icy in grief

11

the fresher bloom captivated
his soul with an exceeding depth
a budding beauty so glorious
of splendour he'd prefer to hold

111

words exchanged between
which made for a catty scene
out came the elder woman's claws
wanting to scratch the dahlia's eyes

1V

and the allure of newer flower
he'd ever keep
as the ancient wrinkles
in time did finally creep

Every bite was venom
on my flesh,
                   corrosive,
making me weak to you.
Then you kissed
                          my lips,
the remedy.