By Tikum Mbah Azonga
Oh where are you, my love
Our love song rings hollow
So dear to me, it has today become a hollow sham
Everything I touch freezes
At night the giant fig tree
The very one you and I sat under
Turns into a baobab tree
And before I open my mouth
It teases me:
“If really she was yours as you think
Wouldn’t she have come back to you?”
© 2009
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