KWAVA

KWAVA

A different perspective is what I write from

A mere conscience that doesn’t even twitch

I’ve been with her through everything

Yes her; you’d be surprised at her age

Twenty nine and time was running out

A woman of every man’s dreams

Entrapped in the crevices of sorrow

Singing songs of doldrums was a hobby

Half the time; she appeared cold-hearted

Instinctively, enjoying life was an A+

Living life to the fullest but possessing emptiness

Claming to have an alter-idem, a façade

She was just a reflection of her blues

Facing a new challenge, she walked into the gallery

The murals hanging perfectly  on the wall, easing past it

Putting on her apron, she worked on her new piece

Quilling was something she had learnt from her mum

Rooted in the family for generations till now

Seamlessly her hands moved upon the easel

Her only form of somewhat redemption was with it

In a relationship with her art was a big plus

Complete seduction any time they got together

I could only admire their love from afar

She wrapped her fingers over it’s body alluringly

Bringing to life images who would have ever thought

Giving a voice to whom she made love to

Her pink tongue working on her reddish brown skin

It now gave way to show the inner part

A fleshy red interior that she sucked on with vigour

Causing her to get some form of excitement

Emitting sometimes a transparent fluid

Other times, a white translucent fluid

She didn’t care; because they both tasted good

She craved for it more than you can imagine

And always let her lips and tongue suck gently

Agbalumo; her seductive partner

Art; her exquisite confrere

A woman so beautifully crafted and intelligent

Her;

Kwava.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Nee 👣

 

36460cookie-checkKWAVA

One Comment on “KWAVA

  1. Ressurected_Phoenix

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