Let your hands cup these mounds Filled with longing and desire Fueled by absence and need Let your fingers crawl on this skin As a tourist on a vacation site For my body is a country Traverse, be lost I will find you Let your eyes through mine Boreholes into my soul As we gyrate to the rhythm of our hearts Sheer lust, our guide Hold me For all we have is now Let your fingers like a screwdriver Unscrew the bolts to this temple door Pray at this altar Save your soul Make reparation Let your tongue Walk these hills and valley Curves and bends Aisles and alleys Satisfy your taste buds Let each native tongue Be aroused by each thrust Slow, fast, deep, shallow As care and the wind become one Every gasp becomes a closer call To erupting satisfaction
About the Poet
Eziafakaego Brenda Nwafor is a poet, Vice Chairman of the Association of Nigerian Authors, Lagos, and a bag designer. She is the author of “Ode to a Dancing Pen” and “Eyes Wide Shut“, both poetry collections. She lives in Lagos.
2 comments
Nice poem Bren
I love this poem. Weldone ma’am