Nesting one tender morning
In cool, scented, pillowed sheets
I ran lost over your warm hips
Suddenly tear drops like petals
Cascaded down your flowery cheeks
And you were sad as a voyage.

Your sigh was the wind
Hurtling past dumb cliffs
On a troubled starless night
Still your arms of flowers wrapped me fondly round.

Oh love, love, tall as the wind
Oh slender elegance of the palm
Let me sip the milky sweetness
Of your tender breasts
Then safely lost in the soft warmth
Of your mango laps I’ll steep
All sorrows in love’s sweet endeavours.

Ken Saro-Wiwa.


Silence Would Be Treason Copyright © 2018 by Íde Corley; Helen Fallon; and Laurence Cox. All Rights Reserved.

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