Proposals

Iremide,

this is not a poem

or a love letter.

I've watched you tear boys

apart into shreds of

paper in your hands.

I've seen your perfect

eyelashes blink them

into hades - oblivion.

Your beautiful lips have

curled to show your disgust

accompanied by a classic spit

of their drunken words.

I have watched your hands

make magic with words,

watched those dainty fingers

recreate life and infuse soul

into deadened tree pulp.

And permit me to say

that

if you ever get tired of

reading those history books,

please,

come read me.

I await your reply.

Yours, Gbenga.