Demha

An illusion

Demha
An ode: a journal for the ones who wish and never accomplish their sexual fantasies
This is a fortune cookie for you

I could have shut my window airtight and gone straight to bed but my eyes decided to do it's thing and wonder about sighting good looking Muslim men minding their dishes in broad daylight...

Orange is now my favorite color
I see you in it so much that orange is the literal new black
The smooth marble that is your chestnut skin  makes me wonder how it will feel on my finger tips

Those biceps keep screaming my name
The way your veins protrude in a snakelike wonder rids me my fear for the reptile
Your voice ugh! Your voice is my favorite song
I walk past your station just to get an eyeful of my dark knight in orange
Come tomorrow come the next few years
Come whenever you're mine to keep

Weird how I had to add this stanza cos I keep thinking about you
Too sad that nothing can work between us
You're the opposite of my religion
My Christian inner child will think this insane
But the other me wants to pursue what shouldn't be

This is almost the case of Kambili  and Father Amadi

A priest and a lovesick young girl
So much desire burning in her heart
And him silently loving her back
But with no action cos he's in love with Christ

You're not an Imam not a priest
Not even mine
But  who knows what next week holds
Maybe you. Maybe me

So Demha are you in love with Allah?
Does Mohammed own your heart
Do you see me the way I see you
Does your belief forbid the idea of you and I?
I wish you could convert for me

I am being selfish cos I can't even think it
You know the thought of swapping religions for you
But I am affectionate towards you still

Dearest Demha
I saw you today, I saw you yesterday and the day before
I keep seeing you
Yet I don't get enough of you
Should I be afraid for my poor giant eyes?
That if they don't sight you enough they'd weep?
I hate the idea of not hearing your masculine banter from beneath my window
It's so therapeutic
Especially hearing your hoarse Muslim voice

The only difference from other days

You didn't wear my favorite shirt today
The new black
You came out clad in grey sleeveless dri-fit
The basketball type that exposes my biceps
They are attached to your body
But they belong to my eyes

With the baggy mid length shorts that define your thighs enough for my eyes to feed through to your knees
Now I fear for my poor little heart
Your leaving my hostel will break it
You'd dish me everything Burna Boy said in last last
That's really not the kind of breakfast I want to be served

I saw you laughing at a skit some days ago
Why  was it making you so happy I wondered
Why was your head bent towards the security table that way
Why were your eyes so attached to your screen
It should be focused on me

Was that video worth your cackling
Is it a video I've watched before
What exactly in it was making you that happy
It should be me

Could I make you happier
Happy enough to take me to your mosque
I hear it's the one behind our hostel
'Our' hostel? Now I want everything that has you in it to include me

Your smile touched the corners of your eyes when you looked at me that afternoon
When you raised your honey brown eyes to stare into my soul
I quickly averted my eyes
So you don't read them
And find a thousand languages i love you in
It feels  too good
To have you stare after me whenever I walk past you

Do your eyes linger on me as I walk
Or do you quickly look away too
Like I do ?
Do I do to you what you do to me