By Osorje Lang
I am to you the road untraveled, and gracefully bypassed with only faint glimmers of brief simmering hope. Your paths have been blazed through with such eloquent yet shy femininity that exudes off placed desire of passion and that air of your being drew me in like the perfect line of art with a flawless contrast.
Neglected and avoided with caution signs to detour me for newer and smoother surfaces of travel, I yet remain the offset of being an unfamiliar road contoured in a tarry body of ambiguity. With regards to a saccharine nostalgia I suddenly yet briefly felt a warmth charge through the lengths of my being.
And then I too came closer,
However, I remained enthralled in the sweetness of that moment, totally engulfed with peek sensory and eyes wide shut viewing your frame and fragmented smile outlined with vivid red lipstick in my memories.
But now remembering the coarse joke that fell from my lips, and you retorted “why do you have to bash me?”
That was the last time you slept in my arms, it was only a faulty attempt at courting, and now I use
the term courting as though suitable for what is now popular culture; I’ve yet to correct my faults.
Traveled many times by other curious motorist of life I have experienced erosion,
even some travelers have traveled partially on me to whom I don’t know as friend or foe
Still you detour and follow more well-kept roads
Now I am sure to accept that only golden paved roads are the ones you know.
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