Ban m ‘tout

“He can’t wait forever”. She said not knowing that for never my mind has been free of the seed coursing through my veins. Like water on hot coals, I’ve cracked spreading shame to my assumed name. Deeply rooted at the beginning of the end, doused with drops from Chokola skin, cultivated in the privacy of his subtle alchemy, I blossomed within.

Give me all.

Anchored in an abyss of us. Bearing no appellation. The ties that bind are the binds untied by this inferno stirring steadily within my soul. A fire stoked by time and space. My confidence seemingly replaced by illusions of gold. She’s not gold. A beautiful placeholder to be mollycoddled and sold because this root is in his bones, just as he planted, on oak and spruce covered grounds, of first generations – years ago. He knows.

Give me all.

All. If he can. Rekindled flames hold hands. Jaded eyes catch hell’s glimpse. Ill equipped for battle. She rethinks her attempts. I reign like living water to a starving soul. Quenched with life’s blood. To have and to hold.

Give me all.

Marrow. An impenetrable bond, I put my life in his palms, safe and secure. For he will protect me and do no harm, no matter how loud we alarm the unknowns of our interworking. They cannot offend me any longer, for I know who I am and my roots are power – full – of love. His love.

Give me all.

The levees of my heart, broken and overflowed by deep rivers of desire. Drowning in a sea of men, propelled by flagellum, I swim – fertilized within. A miracle bestowed. A pain I will endure. The birth of his junior, a reminder of where it all began – ti kras flè.

Give me all.

Push through. The force of thunder perfectly timed, the sway of wayward bodies. My pillar propels me forward as I prepare branch’s voyage. Lightning skies cry. I rise one last time. Don’t think I can survive and yet, the rain. Washed clean. So beautiful and pure. Our roots extend.

Give me all.

All of me. All of him. All of us. Is ready to amend. If only. He will. Give me. All.

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