__________
Something about you burns me whenever I look at you.
Like alcohol over an old wound, I feel that faded flame again.

What is it worth for you to stop?
To calm those brown winged moths fluttering in your eyes,
To silence that glare of cold Iroko.

What do you see when you look through me?
Skin and bones, or flesh, or blood?
Or do you see a soul like yours?

Do my eyes make you wither?
Do my words make you wilt?

Is my voice carried on the waves of an elusive song,
Tone so perfect, the harmonies of singing angels don’t compare-
Do you like listening to me?

Does my voice spill out my thoughts like water,
Or does it cause a landslide of rocks and-
jagged unfiltered ideas to...