Not me settling to eat
The only habit that drifts all of me
away from everything
But my eyes caught your scribbles
scribblings in colourful letters
like a bird blessed with hued feathers
Flapping in rhythm with my heart
Your lines stole my meal
out of my reach.
I think I'm getting used to this
and an epic habit is springing
onto my soul, it's ringing
with it my heart is stitching,
and my eyes weeping.
weeping in awe of your poems.

© Dele