by Josaya Muianga
I had fallen in love with her
Like the way memories engulf the pit of a dreaded soul,
And brings it back anew.
I knew she was no good for my fat-belly son-of-an-ego;
And i was all too good for
The countless deaths of her pure little self of a fruit
Before it rots like a raisin in the sun.
She reincarnated into the movie stars; pop queens;
All too familiar figments she can imagine.
Alas! What is it with me?
What looks do I enchant
Unto the eyes of others that I
May see myself in the mirror of their utterance?
I loved her
Maybe all the times as did she.
For what reasons though, if love
Slays one, and leaves the other
To bear the lemons of its lemonade?