The whiteness of pearl
The glossiness of gold
See the richness of girl
From me walking away

Feel the warmth of her slap
Sense the sound of her thrash
See the rudeness of the girl
who is walking away

She say “I love your honesty”
I know honesty the best policy
Why is she so lunatic,
who is walking away?

She asked me for date
She was in shopaholic state
Guess the stubbornness of the lunatic
Who calls me miser again

Her gold bracelet not faked
But her sympathy is baked
It’s the attitude of the girl
That is baking that cake
Boy becoming single
Hardly changes the weeks
But the girl who left him
Tails a queue of pervert geeks

Oh come on my freakin brain
Just split out the stupid pain
See the hot figure of the new chick
Who’s walking on my way

I have medicine.
Am being kept alive by progress.
Little pills like droplets of pale blue
Doctor-nectar.

I have been inside women so beautiful
I nearly gave up
Ghost.
Their confidences were instruments

Of classical composers.
The creative pleasure of the
Universe manifested. Aesthetics. Pure.  
Their bodies were salty

Words longing to be
Poetry.
They did it.
Made flesh immortal.

My hands were dead upon them; my
Heart skipped beats in the name of
Glossiness.
Twig fingers upon dead silicone.

And I grew around their hearts
Like a tree around a graveyard light post;
Watered with tears and appreciated at times  
When any

Grieving heart throws itself at anything
Beautiful and
Rigid.
For something.

I know love.
It tickles and hurts.
And I know death.
They're related.

Sisters separated at birth.
I know Poetry.
She says to Death and Love:
*Do you guys have the

Other two
Thirds of
This
Medallion?

A box of matches in your hand

You hold one before me, I catch your glance

I watch you strike it,
friction igniting an incense of fireside

I see the flame reflecting in the glossiness of your eyes

So bright and beautiful, warm

As swift as it’s flame became, it’s out

The smell of burning pine, cold

So comforting yet sullen

and without regard or regret I had fallen

Falling now, deeper into ashes

Of quickly struck matches

Your glossiness; amplified by sunlight
With a distinctive smell
You are curvaciously curvacious
Full of life and robust energy
If I decide to open the crest
Please tell me, how much gold?
Tell me, how much?

Dorning luminous colours
That seperates you from the multitude
Save for the blind, none can miss your presence
Heralded by a strong and seductive fragrance
Surely; I think, you were created on a Sunday
After God rested on Monday

Astrologers follows the stars
For me and my everything, I choose you
Like a beacon to an Airplane
Your firm rounded headlights;
They are my longitude and latitude
Sending strong signals to my temple
And if you say "No", I'll die...

This is not about your "Tembe"
I just want to be lost in your world
And be the co-pilot if your plane
Hence I choose to disrupt tradition
Why kneel, with a precious ornament
When I can do it poetically
With poweful lines woven specially for you

Your real gloss is inately in you
Not in Mary Kay or Estee Lauder
I can't guarantee you heaven on earth
Nor all the precious ornaments in Kano
But what I promise you with my life
Is a lifetime of love and friendship

This is where it gets tricky
With every courage I can muster
Backed by the backing of the Backer
With a glow of pride and responsibility
And on this very special date
I ask poetically, will you marry me?
Just say "Yes", please!