04/07/20
1)
I asked her where she went.
She told me into the wardrobe.
Lands abound.
Beautiful lands.
Endless adventure peers through the leaves
that flutter to our feet.
The flowers brim with giggles.
The winds whisper a sweet song,
a silly stanza,
a silken, sordid affair.
Curling under the surface,
the tree’s toes spread
to the edge,
where the tadpoles rest
and the ducks roam.
The crooked door,
hanging ajar,
carries less magic than her words.
Here it is.
She melts into the darkness.
Follow me.
Do I trust in her?
Her supple molasses eyes
glisten like a curious kitten’s.
Her chubby hand,
adorned with dainty fingers,
patiently awaits me.
Will it fit us both?
We’ll have to make it.
Should I trust her?
The aura that rests on her shoulders
and flusters her warm cheeks
tells me yes.
My brain in its infinite wisdom
tells me no.
My hand falls inches from hers.
2)
The sounds of suburbia ring different.
Demanding feet pat pat their way towards us. We’re in their home today.
They glide over the water’s bumpy surface, peaking every now and then at the fountain that has brought us all here today. As the sun recedes below the horizon, casting a periwinkle sky beneath robin’s egg clouds, golden hues ignite the fountain. Carrying the color of cleansing flames, the airborne stream washes over me, refreshing my soul.
Is this what I have missed ? The way the vibrant green of the land melds into the cool hues of the water?
Have I missed the jingle jangle of metal on metal? The shh of water meeting water? The chirp of squabbling ducks? The soft touch of a wandering breeze?
What it is to feel dead in a living corpse . What it is to feel alive.
Iyo Aghedo, 21. Florida, USA.
Instagram: @iyoaghedo