"onkempt" poems
I was about running for safety
when she said she love me
what is love?
on this my empty pockets
her onkempt hair and hungry eyes
i knew she was a spider
though my heart is deaf
Igbo love is costlier in the market
how-come this Yoruba lady
money in the morning, money clockwise
there is no juice left in me lady,
your web had caught nothing
and your tricks I've known.
Jul 23, 2018
Jul 23, 2018 at 7:24 AM UTC