Of Your Dwellings Poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Of Your Dwellings
'You shall not covet',
So go into her and be her husband;
Pleasure,
Measure,
Leisure,
Treasure,
Water from the well! !
But you shall not eat any blood in any of your dwellings.
Probe, robe, scope, cope, flop, troop;
Open the mouth of your cave for the muse of my love,
And like the abundant rain on the plants.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Topic(s) of this poem: husband,plants
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8/29/2026 4:31:16 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
