Test Duologue - Poem by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu
Morning was patient with us, she and I,
Within earful white walls and solemn
She: How do you submit your thoughts -
on a gold platter with a prophet's head
and a skin of dead wine?
And the eloquence of Ancient Rome returned.
Tongue opened up on the large breath of
a sot's revelry. High, profound proverbs of poetry...
I hastened up: A hunter's skill is seen on the veins
of his arms. On a platter of poetry,
the sun beams on the blessings of the initiated.
Words rise and fall on undulating terrains of
fig's foundations. Towards the green search
for summons, trials revisit.
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