Gloria Ikekhide

You kiss my forehead

In the open, under the jacaranda tree

You bring me flowers

Red roses, white roses, yellow roses

Wild with thorns like your love

Image: Babatunde Lasisi

You kneel before me

You buy me gifts

Wrap them, with red bows and hand-written messages

Even though your palms are calloused

And then you give me more gifts

In blacks and in blues

behind closed doors, under garments

Where wandering eyes are blind

Gloria is an English and Literature grad, part time writer and air hostess.


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