Madam Night took you on a date
Into raised dust of streets
Your eyes like frog’s rolling the contours of the littered street
The Woman of Your Dreams may be anywhere, everywhere
You have never been lucky with the ruby pearl called love
The definition of beauty has eluded you
Is it the effulgent black or
Pale like yellow banana or
Fair like a sun-ripen papaya?
Is beauty the size of a corn stalk or
Plump like a headless banana trunk?
For the first time in your three decades and one,
Madam Night stamped on your forehead kisses of good luck
There, swished by the wind of good fortune, stood TWYD
In the unlikeliest of places, dressed to kill
Lined under street lamps among her ilk
“Customer, come here now”
Your heart lilted in consonance with the melodious voice
What to do?
Do you strike an accordion of conversation with her?
Or just tell her in words as simple as, “I want you”?
No, that would make her look a prostitute
Do you tell her, “Follow me”?
A bargain would follow
No, she is not a prostitute
Do you tell her your escapades with girls?
That you are a bad boy yourself
Or you tell her you are celibate all because of her.
How soon will you tell her you love her?
Will you say the magical words too soon?
“Will you marry me?”
Or will you feed her honey on a leaf of lie?
Will you take her home to chop rites?
Or to Shoprite to shop right?
So she may leave her blossoming business for your cage of love.
You will shoot your shot, you assure yourself
Even if you misfire, you will reshoot
Till you slip that ring into her finger
And she is yours and yours only
No hunter brings meat home by giving up on a misfired shot.
Photo by Berlian Khatulistiwa on Unsplash
About the Author: Ridwan O. Adedeji is a three hundred level student of English Language, Obafemi Awolowo University, Ile-Ife. A native of Iwo, he espouses an egalitarian society that has sincere interests in its helpless and less privileged.
Personal Blog Link: owiwishrieks.wordpress.com
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