What love is. 



You do not know what love is,

Until it becomes the clips,

That split apart your lips,

So the world can see the secret in your mouth. 


You do not know what love is,

Until it becomes mosquito fingers,

That grill the giggling of your ribs

Or the wind, that carries the festival on your head.



Beyond the walls of Babylon,

You do not know what love is,

Until it becomes a jolly tragedy; 

Tears of an overfed happiness.



Erupting from a tortoise-back-like-heart,

Love is racing 800m in seconds with your heart, 

At the whispering scent of him. 

It's the illusions that seem clear.



Than the words of God,

At the foggy truths of her curves,

You have become the cackling sound

Of my ribs; the laughter of my sorrow. 


You have become the memory of home

To a child flung away to a boarding school.

You have become the fragrance of a goat's bleating

To the village chief priest. 


You have become a luminary stain 

On the sheeny darkness, grooming my fluffy thoughts.

You have become a part of me

And me, a part of you. 


      What is love???


©Emmanuel Egbiri