By Tikum Mbah Azonga
I offered her a comb
My personal one
The one I travelled the world with
I couldn’t care less about the heap
Or the overnight palm wine in her belly.
I was at the foot of the mountain
A cherished offspring of Epasa Moto
I wore no hood
And didn’t smell of engine oil
So why betray the joy of my heart.
Copyright 2010-08-06
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