The tick-tocking clock talks of love and time,
of a heart adorned with timeless beauty,
At the fourteenth hour, she says:
‘It is strife to love one who takes your breath away.’
Each time she whispers your name ,
a fadeless star descends from Jove;
that ranks you amongst burning passions of pain and pleasure;
turns you on to turn you down; bites your lips when she kisses it;
makes you boil with anger, in a hot cauldron
that softly simmers you with guilt; /ensnaring your senses/
to pull you away from yourself with no strings attached.
But lo! It’s to these heartstrings you’ve made purchase.
Though you fall and bruise all bones,
your heart shall be aglow with desire.
And /like a morning glory/, your life hangs on
/between reality and fantasy/ where
she’s traded her heart for a genovese coin
lost in an ocean of sharks and dolphins.
‘Find it!’ she says.
You can’t be underwater and breathe fine
like you could swim without fins.
So, you die with your eyes open, /a bittersweet death/
/searching for the silvery heart of a white witch/
until she whispers: ‘Wake up, I love you.’
Read – She is Love by Faith Chepchumba, Kenya
