Doubt I felt when, this year,
I heard her voice;Confused. Shocked. I thought
I had failed her.
However, happiness hones me —
Gifted with a milky object from within.
Naughtiness is the language of her body.
A moment with her brightens my thoughts.
Her smiles would heal an ill nation.
She is a rose for whom I spite other flowers.
Unbeknownst to her, my inner self of true feeling.
Scared to touch her each time I come close.
A mirage, to me, she appears.
But she endows me spiritually, with reminders of solat —
My adhan, straight from Allah.
Yet unaware, she glows away darkness.
Innocence
is what i see every time I gaze,
Every time she looks away.
She's that artifact a man would like to own
She's like the cloud we can see, but can't touch;
Mature enough to make me a platonic friend,
But that is not all I ever wanted.
Written by
Oladipo Afeez Olajide
@Ladoime
