Photo credit: Kelly Sikkema. Source: Unsplash.

I wrote little notes on skin

For him to follow

Little notes to guide his path

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As he wandered through the

Landscape of flesh—

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A hundred

Doors

Waiting to be broken.

 

And what is love? Is it not every fibre of his being?

A flame burning in the darkest room?

His eyes are the starry blue of a sun-kissed night,

His lips the gates of paradise—

Unlock and open

That I may pass through.

 

Black is his beauty, black the beloved

Black his crown, black the colour of his voice,

Black—

The scent of

A thousand sunsets

melting as one,

Ambrosial nectar of the

beloved.

 

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Dan Ajamo was born in Kaduna and raised in Kaduna, Lagos, the Caribbean and England. He currently lives in Lagos, Nigeria. In his spare time, he likes to listen to music, read, and write. His writing has appeared in Litro Online.