To a foolish consort from them times

I kissed you in the dark.

Or, let us record our affidavit truthfully:
We messed our kiss that night.

For my lips chanced upon your upturned nostrils &
My tongue picked at caked mucus amidst our startled breathing,
One awkwardness leading to the other, and, We
Propagated illicit seeds in your off-guarded turf.

Dead beat conception!

Now please,
Stop howling baby-milk-bread-and-me lamentations
For we are best striving to wipe away the lingering taste of our mucus kiss –
Disgusting still –
From that sightless night.

Of yestertimes.



One response to this post.

  1. Posted by patrick ochieng onyango on September 23, 2014 at 08:40

    did i leave my contact?
    nine months later?
    for it was a sightless night…


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