Has nobody ever told you that the brown phobic lines on your balms are the lonely streets that leads to your tombstone?
If not,
then you should know that the gongs from my mouth
are the anthems of advice father played when the music of our dying snore lost it key
and we tend to walk the footprints laid by demons and men alike.
These of course,
were always after our Psalm 51 and 29 morning prayers
that were always preceded by scary dreams.
If you have never had a make-believe decoy
that said ghosts hoist the paths we walked in daytime
if we didn't overturn our chairs and seatings we left outside in the night
then you should know that I attended classes taught with lanterns and carbonated fumes
these of course were mainly when we went searching for snails
our fathers forgot to pick before they died.
If you never attended lessons in summer where you were taught that
money is the universal language that had more intonations than French
and stood taller than English, then maybe you should know
that when people say they've trekked the fence between poverty
and a bag of mean riches, they mean more than that.
If someone asks you to spell the letters of death
I hope you won't be stupid enough to begin with the letter 'D'
because death is never something that begins with a letter so 'd'ear
Has somebody ever ask you to count the letters of love?
I hope you counted you too without a smile
Because we too, are numbers of love laced with skins and hairs and love is not
amongst the lines or potholes
we ignorantly call,
.
dimples.
Photo credit : Screenshot from a movie scene