By Ayobami Olutaiwo

are you satisfied now?
or, for how long do you intend to remain an illusion?
the power, the muse, all gone?
bone into bone, tissue erecting on tissue, manly belief,
perish?
we both know this is not love.
it’s something else. We both know it’s not love.

a game?
the lies of an affectionate lips; spilling words that reach the soul.
this is not love my dear.
it’s an emotional gamble with bitter ends.