The first kiss we shared was a great gnashing—
A clinking and clanking of warring swords.
You parried the blows of canines slashing,
That provided lyrics for irksome birds.
But before we stepped into Osun’s realm,
Where lovers bathe in passion’s fruity spring.
We thought of detractors we had to whelm,
The venom words and foul stares they may bring.
It was a war we were ready to fight,
Because being in love was our earthly right.
And in that moment, our love was made flesh;
A chassis to house our glacé gusto.
And our bodies moved in syrupy thresh,
You were my belle. And I, your loving beau.
Ours was a love that had no precedence,
As novel as a symphonies’ grumble.
It sang our song with roaring eloquence,
And caused those who hated it to stumble.
In daytime, our love supercharged the sun,
At night, it commanded mountains to run.
We enjoyed long walks through narrowing paths,
Not minding the piercing stares of old bats.
We were forced to create our own bypaths,
Near amorous deer and chirpy gnats.
We disappeared into each other’s eyes,
Drowning in our tickling melodrama.
How could they such a pure love, demonize?
Tainting it with everlasting trauma.
The world was our unyielding chaperone,
And the precious moments were ours to own.
When the bell rung, it always broke me,
For I would have to suffer without you.
I struggled with a deep anxiety—
I would have sailed on sand in my canoe
If only it meant I could have you near.
If only it meant I could knead your scalp.
If only it meant I could lap your ear,
To send you back to that orgasmic alp.
I stayed alive, in order to love you,

For no one else’s love could be as true.

Photo by Gwenaël Yao from Pexels