THAT DUDE (A Fantasy Tale)

Ia
Stories……Interest…… Needs
Worries……Filters…….Deeds

Ib
I heard the macho had come to town
His history hopped out from the past
…flipping itself like an interesting script
…in the library of my mind
Forcing smiles long on vacation
…to return home to the mouth of my face
Mischief playing dondo, mpintin and atumpan in my head
…as my feet danced in can’t-wait-to-feel mode

II
He was to grace the climax of the festival
And my pretty and awesome mind
…was to lay the perfect trap
…to arrest his attention
…and subsequently his body
…to the bed of my thrill
…armed with a naughtiness born out of my devilish side
…making sure no corners sat for a hide

III
The D day came
…with many buttocks competing to stand out
Mine, not capable of a somersault
…let alone an earthquake that will break him in
Like an ebony, his skin shone with the sun
…his dark hair still guarded his hairline
…like disciplined soldiers on guard duty
…none out of line
His eyes swarm in flirty waters
…black in brown in white
Mouth like a womb I needed
…even if it could drive me to the tomb
Tall body that looked like an electric pole in my mind
…then
…legs and arms well proportioned
…chest lying like the best football park in the world
I could swear his fingers called for my kneading
…I didn’t mind being dough
His flat back side promised a handsome harvest at the frontal
And the muscles!
…Oh the muscles snaked like wild cobras
He was everything that spelt the warrior long spoken about
Yes, he was fine
…so fine I needed him mine
…even if it was for an hour

IV
He broke the bones of his competitors like lonely broomsticks
And the crowd-
…both men and women
…screamed his name
Humans choked the Hantrase Square
…making me a dot in the lot as the dark curtained
…but I was confident

V
The bonfire went out
…according to plan
Darkness wore the place like a whore on known chores
…which paid well into satisfaction’s core
The rope housed by my hands
…readily went to tie his left leg
The pole which could not be broken
…being its support
…in a nyansapo which even the wise
…will struggle to crack
I then stood close
…watching him struggle to break free

VI
“Fight me…
I purred into his ears
…as he struggled for an untie
“or grant my wish
…of being my night dish”
He smiled
“Sure, the second will be a pleasure
…so help me out of this rope”
And I did

VII
The mat rustled in complaints
…of the new load
Sweat was a delicious light on
…for the horror need that chanted a feed
The lantern struggled to picture his shadow
…and lost me in him
But my hands had long been explorers
They searched all caves to get the snake
…and wake it live
…from its slumber to play
It was not a cobra
…it was a watersnake to my surprise

VII
“No Warrior Kumnipa
…I need the snake that has cultivated many songs
…from satisfaction of women
…not a water snake which only pinches in self defence”
A snore insulted my bore
…and sent hungry emotions
…to fetch angry ones
…from my mean vault
But reasoning came in their stead
…to whisper his humanity
…and fallibility of tiredness
Sleep still stayed far from me
…till dawn

VIII
He did wake
…and I thought my brakes could break
…in his shake
But he couldn’t beat the record of Kwaa Appiah, the village drunk
His fingers lingered on his side
His eyes played pilolo with mine
His legs shook like a hook afraid of a shark
…far deep in waters from its owner
His mouth closed and opened in panting
Little by little,
…his greatness broke down like the Walls of Jericho
Leaving him naked in strengthlessness
Right before my disappointing eyes

IX
So he was a little fante kenkey
…in huge big beautiful brown plantain leaves
I fetched his togas
…and opened the door
…for his squeeze out
He promised a come back
…but I wasn’t enthused
He did come back
Every Memeneda
…which I made to swallow his almost dead neck
By fastening the door at the back
…and killing the light out of the wick of the lantern

X
For a month and a half
…he tolerated
But decided the sun needed a sitting in our setting
He met to his horror
…Kwaa Appiah in his hardworking stupor
And was not pleased
Warrior Kumnipa lived by his name
…snapping Kwaa Appiah’s neck
Turning him instant ghost in my happy host

XI
The extraordinary him
…immediately showed his ordinariness
As many gathered in my compound
…due to the shrill in the sounds
…that bolted from the pit of my stomach
Funny, the sweat from human and spirit together
…had not dried
But I cried
…for the run which did not take me to the peak of pleasure
…for losing the best gem which only I knew of
…for the many pleasure climbs nights will taunt with memories
Till my well painted whore life ended
…in Kojokrom
This is the tale of that dude
…who still chases my unwilling
…and uninterested slit
No matter how loud jealousies of people here haunt
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia © October 7, 2019

2 thoughts on “THAT DUDE (A Fantasy Tale)

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