Her Beauty by Makinde Damilola Peter

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Her beauty,

Flawless like Africa’s at dawn,

Devoid of the colonialists’ desecration.

Her glossy skin ravages my palm with yearning

Desire to travel far and wide her well mapped body.

Flooding my banks of fantasy with dear desire for ecstasy.

Her beauty,

Inholds swith like the python’s constriction,

Intoxicating me with dilemma of words for expression.

Her teeth gap when she smiles paves way through

My heart, melting every solidified wax of defence.

Her beauty crusts lust with love for the elusive she carries.

Her beauty,

Renders quils of most reputable of poets nonvirile,

Making me lurk more in her presence for artistic observation.

Her eyes ooze subtlety, bringing my quest for beauty ashore,

Intimidating the prowess of my invincibility.

She is the sticky clay, my words are the humble potter .

Her beauty,

Erupted in my mind, a raging storm of thoughts,

Depriving my eyes of a gratifying consummation

With sleep, rendering my fingers vociferous

all through the night’s serenity.

All in the bid for perfection in inditement…

Her beauty,

Mirrors her vocation, as it

Carved wheels for my eyes to journey

Along with her dexterous hands beautifying

Creations of her genre especially on their resting lips,

Serving as an opon ifa* faring me into imagination

Of my lips resting on the comfort of hers,

With my tongue exploring the depths

Of  her pinkly shafted cavity.

Her beauty,

Plagues my focus with assiduity,

Arming my eyely curiosity with blush brushes,

Lacing her gaze with intimidation,

Revealing the jealousy of her peers,

Raising me brows of perceived promiscuity

From my friends,

Facilitating an anonymous smile on my face.

Her beauty,

Like a path I’m treading, victory the aim,

To be labelled a victor in the quest for her heart,

Crouched behind the veil of affection.

Beneath her tongue lies the catalyst to my triumph.

But little does she know, I’m just a merchant,

window shopping.


Opon ifa: A Yoruba term used for a wooden dish and used by Diviners for alledgedly seeing into the past present, future and communicating with the gods.


12341198_931727970243442_8415723894448490345_nI am Makinde Damilola Peter. I am also happily married to creative writing but my contract marriage with Communication and Language Arts in the University of Ibadan keeps me away from her at times. But we still find time to consummate our love though. I would have been a prolific footballer if my father had not flogged the ability out of me during childhood, but watching soccer still constitutes my hobby. My female friends would have fancied me more because I’d have been very generous in helping to make their hair and putting on makeup but my mother diagnosed me of an evil spirit when I signified interest in acquiring  hairdressing and make-up artistry skills. However they still makeup my keen interests.


One Comment Add yours

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