Musings

Vulva Struggles 1.

She rolled and tossed and complained of her hangovers from last night, listing all the clubs she went to and the drinks she had, I rolled out a fine joint and offered her, suggesting it will help with the hangovers,

The Art of the Art.

It would be nice for parents to allow their children to try things out before it becomes too late. Despite the Nigerian ‘, My child will be the one to bury me and not vice versa’, but children still die before their parents with little or nothing to show for being alive, to show they were here.

Family is trash and a bottle of water.

When she opened her legs, I knew it was happening, her breast was like hot chocolates drank in a rush, one that you hope doesn’t finish- she was smooth, smoother than most girls I have met, she said she wanted more and I was ready. I crave Lagos, like vagina or vodka, a way that should be explorative, one that should satisfy me, I want to walk by the beach with my hand in my hair, pulling through every stride, I  crave Lagos like the local jollof rice my grandma use to make, she uses local Maggi and lots of onions and dry fish, the palm oil had a different aroma, my grandma was a genius in the kitchen, why do people get old?

Cream.

Cream pour out of my body in cums, sleeping to a cat and a book.

She played with my vaginas with her toes, giggling.

I liked how she smiled- how she makes me hard.

She was to busy for me.

BLUE

I am blue, I am you, forget the baby and leave the woman to herself-

Friendship.

Sunny afternoon, the dry leaves where falling down lightly as harmattan approached slowly, I saw

Easy

Make a wish when you see a star, break the glass when you see a