Gbosheye

Enchanted by the infernoes of your eyes, I shall hang the devil to the eaves of your bossom. Enthroned with the wools of your emrald smile, I shall rope the stars to beeds to flavour the fullness of your waist. Your breast, the ebulient maidens whom sunset cannot rape, whose piss taste truest than palmwines tapped ere crows. What man shall graze his eyes on your ebony thigh and not ruminate till his last oil spent? What soul shall see your laughters like light sizzlings and not enroll into the queue of sicklers waiting upon the neem from your gap toothed mouth? With you were scenes eked which i night-long befriend - Nights when the moon harped on your face and i bribed the goldfinches for eloquence to croon the exodus of your nose like kegs of brewed crowds. People greived that we are day chicks in the claws of insanity, but memories we build as castles against the irk of senility. I can't be less gracefull than sacrificing my Isaac for this bride; a blend of cherubs an...