You’ll remember the tiny tingles in your palms
Fractured from the hole she created
And you’ll be worn out by her coldness
And her everlasting stiffness
The hurt would be extreme
So much that your bones will weep
Then October will be at your doorstep
Like an attacking memory
All the poems you wrote her will flood your house
Scaring you into the attic
Where sudden warmth will grace your body
And as if you weren’t in control
Desires will attack your body
Only making you steep haphazardly
From all the sex you didn’t get
You’ll wonder how the blockage is so real
And why she smelt so good when you touched her.
Months will crawl by
To when your pet peeve Santa will emerge
And you’ll still remember her kisses
Only that then her poems will be tasteless
And the rushing blood will signal only her skin
Mildly even catastrophic on how you are forgetting her.
A few weeks later
You’ll resume your life unhinged by her absence
Unfazed by the all the time you used to love her
But memories are stubborn parasites
They exist as long as the host lives.
You’ll be unconcerned by reality
Walking majestically as if the world is yours
And you’ll tell anyone who dares listen
That your rate of recovery is phenomenal
And that love is just a figment of imagination
Disposable even by the imaginary cat strippers
And the moment you think you are so fly
She’ll emerge out of nowhere, happy
It will disgust you how she moved on quick
And you’ll ask, is her new boyfriend better than me?
The pages of your book will squeal once again to lament.
But sanity will rescue you out of ravaging whims
Because she is probably getting better poems and action
You’ll curse anyone who bumps on you on the street
Wondering if she really has a better poet
Or just a spiritual charade bent on unmasking her fragility and wildness
Things only you are sure you understood.
But someday you’ll meet someone else
Who will without hesitation buy a gasoline station?
And use your heart to light a fire by her eyes
A fire that will create a new flame on every inch of your body
And how she speaks will render you completely in love
You’ll ask about her favorite music and movies
While holding hands underneath restaurant tables
You’ll forget everything else exists
And think only about her lips
Then on the next date, you’ll kiss her like a serene stream
Without tension nor hesitation
Her lips will quell you
And you’ll wonder afterwards
Are poems harvested from lips?
© Eddy Ongili 2015