spilledwoords
“Poetry burns in our hearts with the passionate heat of a lover’s embrace.”
Ada
― Jess C. Scott
Once that babe, Ada loved me
till I thought my heart was gonna burst
used to spend in her embraces
nights of passion, nights of lust.
All because she indulged me
with those laughing lips of hers
all because she had offerings
of what Juliet readily gave Romeo.
Like a fool, one day, I pulled the trigger
went stark mad and shot her …Christ!
I killed her. I killed her for having no build
to captivate and arouse a man’s imagination.
Although she had a healthy skin, she wasn’t
stunning like Love Island’s filler filled Megan
I condemned her for not measuring up
to my weird vanities and sick cravings.
I implored her a cosmetic surgery to look like
a Barbie doll but she said “NO! Love me not for my
comely face, big bust, conspicuous rounded rump
nor for my thick thighs and fake eyelashes.”
Why am I now so glum and gloomy?
Why am I so conscience-stricken over Ada?
When am also like you (my reader) – we all are
Society’s narrow definition of beauty.
Looking pretty but natural is now a misdemeanor
nothing less than a Dolly Parton’s boobs,
Tina Turner’s thighs and Kim Kardashian curvy suffices
nothing less than a perfect model is beauty defined.
Little wonder am on the go for a new date every month
but why is this beauty worshiped everywhere by men?
Copyright © 2018. Ugo Nkwoala. All rights reserved.
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