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swirl
the confusion is a swirl a whirlwind of thoughts that you fear will soon whisk sanity away what colour is your madness mine wears the rainbow robes of Joseph and is amazed at the bile that leisurely sits in the heart of man
eagle
As the kids played, an idea popped into the head of the boy who sat by himself. The brown wind blowing with colourful nylons dancing all around in the sky had given him this idea. He would make a kite so strong and beautiful that it would contend with an eagle's wings and soar higher than any kite could possibly go. That was an exaggerated possibility but that didn't matter to the boy. And with that, he set out looking for his tools. Finally, the other kids would see that he was worth playing with. They would come begging, he was sure of it!
blaze
When another man comes straggling in begging you to warm his bones remember how you sliced your skin open before him brought out the blaze residing in your chest and asked him to drink He debauched and with your warmth now his strength he stood up and left when he saw you turning cold yourself he left along with all your fire. Or almost all your fire. Lucky for you your people were no ordinary ancestors they were magical and you had their blood coursing through you so with that magic and flickers left of a heart that was once fire you nursed you back alone and now you stand here stitched but even more magical because you now know where you come from so remember when another man comes limping in begging you to warm his bones tell him it's not your duty to fill up a man lacking tell him you can't help him tell him you need your warmth for yourself and after closing the door in his face return to yourself, to your magic and fire and dance because you now understand that you're your own lover before anyone else's
wisp
Sandi always had a lot of makeup on. She said it made her look older and she liked it. The heavy face came with the respect she demanded from colleagues and obedience to her commands from juniors. Being gifted. or cursed as she liked to see it, with a soft, low voice had never helped her. And the fact that she also had to carry a petite physique with minuscule hands and feet alongside that tiny voice only worsened matters. Growing up, she was constantly being laughed at when shrieking out orders and that ruined her self-esteem for a while. She wanted nothing more than to just be taken seriously. Even her family and younger siblings had unconsciously played parts in further damaging her self-image. Discovering foundations and bronzers and liners from an early age saved her. But no matter what she said or tried to make me see, even with all that makeup on, I could always see a wisp of her youthfulness pass by in the littlest things. From the playfulness of her smile towards my direction to the way she twirls her hair or chews on her pen when in deep concentration. Even her shrilled laughter always running toward heaven gave her away. There was no denying, a child was forced to grow up too quickly.
dew
Very few places have the wonder that surrounds my hillside work environment. I had started to stay back at work till very late not necessarily because I enjoyed the work. In the early evenings, everywhere turns mildly dark. The kind that was too dark to recognize a face approaching but not dark enough not to see that one was coming. Once I was done for the day, I'd go sit by a large lonely stone that felt cold and welcoming and faced the hill. It always feels wonderful to finally be alone. I'd light an incense stick and watch as the smoke slowly danced and mixed with the fog. Nothing pleases me more than a beautiful and nice-smelling space. Eventually, both the smoke and fog will hover over my head and go up to the sky. The sky will usually be lit with bright stars and dark purple hues. All I do while seated will be to try and make out shapes and forms from them, and sometimes from the fog. My cue to head home is usually when the dew starts descending and the cold stone gets damp. As much as I love the rain, I hate damp places so I gather my things together, incense stick in mouth, and hurry to my car and head home.
cliff
At the height of the cliff after the feat has been accomplished with the wind billowing and the clear sky so near you can almost touch it you ask yourself what all this has been for the answer is in the skips of your heartbeat the jittery dance of your stomach and the wide smile sitting across your face this, right here, is where happiness resides
water
Time stops flying when loss takes residence at your home. Wings cut short with nowhere else to go He sits still with you when grief shows up as your dining companion. There like he isn't Staring as an obedient child does, quiet, watching and unmoving as insanity comes over too to make deals with you all-alluringly If only he could do something push memory away from force-feeding you watered-down dreams or offer you his company and comfort instead when death winks your way to come share a drink with him Time does nothing, none of these things he just watches on still. with wings cut short and nowhere to go he may sit with you but does nothing else because he is as helpless as you are when these dreaded visitors come through your door
bounty
I have to garner the strength to make a thank-you meal and send it to Solo later. Scrimping my savings together to hire a private investigator to follow Philo around had been a plum idea after all. It stung, having to go to all that length, even sacrificing my savings on the way, but I concluded that it was for a good reason. I not only found out that he was cheating on me, but I also had the misfortune of discovering he liked his men in all the ways my insecurities and fantasies manifested: heavy-set, hairy and devastatingly beautiful men. Aliu went after men who looked like gods amongst men. Men who looked like him. He didn't chase my kind, I always suspected, I chased his. I had begged and stalked him until he became mine. Deep down I always knew such a bounty was too good to be mine so I held it too close to my heart. Once again, Solo had been right. Loving a Nigerian man is like building the castle of your dreams, adorning it with your richest fantasies only to find yourself trapped in it when he uses his very hands to scatter that castle.
butterfly
I'd let my wings fly like the butterfly on high I'd want to soar through skies as I listen to the wind's lullabies but something keeps holding me back like chains on leg they make me slack whats this curse of the sluggards I've inherited to observe life pass me by neglected isn't it better not to dream at all why long for places beyond your soil
stone
To live diseased is to exist as stones do amidst flowers vitality, growth and beauty flowing through impregnable to your innards you're unfeeling, yes, you are
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