‘… brother, she let me deep inside
like a caveman starting a fire, the friction was divine
put her in the prayer position, staring up as if seeing a miraculous sign
I had her speaking in tongues, it was a hell of a night… ‘
She was pushing me away trying to stop my roll
Like a stone, I was relentless with my approach
She wrongly assumed I’d be stopped by her pelvic bone
What actually stopped me was the other man calling her phone
‘… swimming deep in waters unknown
sticking my hand in as if searching for lost gold
I was a pirate sucking an orange, sour juices going down my throat
hoping not to choke on the massive tide that flowed.’
All I ever have is this flashback
She was hitting notes in my sheets, the only music I ever backtrack
The reason I focused on her chest was to forget her backstab
She drew a portrait of us plunging deep into each other, that’s the art of the backhand
YOU ARE READING
THE MANOEUVRES: POETRY
PoesíaDrawn from past experiences, current emotions and the future wishes of a South African young man - The Manoeuvres is about fate, bitterness, regret, destructive behavior and the path to glorious rediscovery in this harsh, crazy world.
