HE MAY HAVE

He may have my picture on his phone

Thinking I’m the bone of his bone

He may feel the chaos of the lone

But gently hides it from his tone

II

He may have me as song in his head

Knowing work always feed instead

He may have felt his pulse, his organs race led

But gently calms until he gets to his bed

III

His heart may sink when he sees me in pink

Thinking he is my blue colour link

He may have felt the rhythm in his ink

And may have let it flow without a blink

IV

He may have casted me as lead in his fantasies

Loving my play in his directorial delicacies

He may have scripted our punishment play fallacies

Knowing they would break no legacies

V

He may have played his heroisms

Which fantastically baffled me in aphorisms

He may have loved my eyes’ codifications of ‘pridisms’

At his strength and my love for his heroisms

VI

He may hate all my male associations

Thinking only he fits my nations

He may be bursting with ‘jelorenditions’

When I smile at all his phantom oppositions

VII

When is the time

To sing a duetic rhyme?

So what plays hide and seek are our prime?

Knowing time takes no “could have” crimes?

Hmmmmmm

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015