By Marvel Chukwudi Pephel
I dreamed you last night. You.
You were wearing a purple robe, tiara and all.
Your lips were red, they looked hungry. Famished.
I loved everything about the lips. Full lips!
I dreamed you sitting with my head on your thick thighs.
I dreamed you to be different from the others,
And I wrote for you and pasted it in my heart:
“In her eye was a thread,
A fine gossamer.
Everybody wanted to draw it out,
But have been failing since her adolescence.
She kept her gaze on me
Like she was saying, ” Try your luck.”
I put my hand on her shoulder, I spoke,
And a roll came out her eye,
Falling at my feet.
She looked at me meekly,
Like she was saying:
Here’s my love, knit a lasting relationship. ”
I dreamed you, but you came half-formed;
You came not being all I dreamed.
You came like the others before you and broke my heart.
And, now, the voice in my head says:
Looks like you’ve reached the end.
Looks like you’ve reached the end,
Unable to dream more,
Unable to breathe.
Marvel Chukwudi Pephel writes poems, short stories and other things besides. His works have appeared in nuimerous places which include, but not limited to, the following: High Coupe, The Avocet, The Kalahari Review, Jellyfish Whisper, Peeking Cat Poetry Magazine, PIN Quarterly Journal, Praxis Magazine for Arts and Literature, Poetry Tree on the Charles. He is currently a two-time winner of the Creative Writing Ink Competition (Ireland).