The Lost Poem by priscah Mutswenje

The Lost

‘I like what I see', a confident and rather pleading call went,
A longing look dominated the masculine face when I turned.
‘A tour please' I pretended to hung on what he meant,
A shock wave dancing in my veins leaving me stunned.

It was not once he has stared and tried to move,
Possibly out of fear and not wanting to feel the rejection.
Having come to terms with my desire to disapprove,
I needed to run like I had never before before the temptation

Raising my steps the heart failed me
The body failing to coordinate with the mind.
The emotive was been challenged by the slimy
Sparks of humanity and etiquette long thrown behind.

"You must not judge" tears hang on his eyelids
"I am no heartbreaker" he spoke with such a speed.
I choked and almost coughed out my moods,
I remembered mother's stern warning to take heed.

"Am neither judge not a heart-saver" I spit out
These words like an over-chewed gum.
The past was standing before me no doubt,
Charged me with no better emotion that calm.

That promise to together fly to heaven
The cool and warm nights of oneness.
Were mere ghosts that left me shaken
I wore the sheep's skin announcing loneliness.

He stood firmly glued to the ground
Almost willing to swear and tear his physique.
He seemed to be mechanical bound
As his cheeks and took a picnic

It pained from within to act my conscience
My soft spot has surely left my feminine self.
We were into one another when science was science
It seemed the past had ruined my love shelf.

I threw him a sharp piercing look to turn him blurred
for a minute and keenly observed his reaction.
Confidence whined his knees, his nerves filled with blood
And breathed heavily like an adolescent snatched off liberation.

I said farewell and walked away
Not wanting to turn and confirm his emotion.
I hoped within hope that there was a way
To forgive and move on without a heart's permission

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