Home Blog Triumph of the Virgin: A Poem by Becky Peleowo

Triumph of the Virgin: A Poem by Becky Peleowo

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I thought he would be the missing piece of my puzzle.

At the dawn of our acquaintance

I was his idol; loved and adored.

The sun rose from my face,

And sets in his heart.

The moon strutted in my smile

The stars danced in my eyes.

The journey of a thousand miles,

Was just a stroll to the stream.

When his eyes looked into mine,

And mine into his,

And we walked chest by chest,

Shoulder to shoulder,

Head to head,

Fingers in intercourse like the socket and the plug,

The Universe paused to watch.

The lucky me walked like pride’s own daughter.

On my toes, head high and chest out.

He kissed my head, I closed my lids.

The sky will always be blue.

All was settled.

Happily ever after!

Life is not a fairytale!

It was happily never after.

The missing piece of my puzzle is a riddle.

And me, his fiddle.

My love is a jagged piece.

A broken piece that fits at the sides

But is cracked at the centre.

That dysfunctional centre,

Has become our breakpoint.

Our love is imperfect.

Our story has a tragic fate.

Ours is happily never after.

Ours, a Titanic tale.

At the noon of our acquaintance,

Pressure mounted pressure,

Eyes tingling with pleasure,

Lips distorted with pleas for friction.

“Friction?

No,

No friction!”

More subtle pleas,

For just a bite of Eve’s sumptuous pie.

In midway compliance, I floated away

Where friction flew me on inexplicable wings of ecstasy

And blinding was the refreshing gusts of his deceitful caresses.

Pleas birthed threats.

Eyes tingling with erotic anguish.

With pressure for more friction

Threats dwindled into pleas

For illegal entrance to his awaited Paradise.

“Open up!”

“No, enough friction!”

Rage!

There comes the rage!

There will be no blue sky after all.

The clouds in his eyes, ravenous,

Like the fury of a maelstrom

“Who wants pleasure without friction

Or friction with the least pleasure?”

And he left!

Left with a piece of my heart.

All’s lost in the winds

The sun’s shine stings,

The moon’s walk mocks

The dancing feet of the stars,

Complement an amorous dirge.

Sing to me your best songs,

Of sorrow, pain, and regret.

Regret?

No!

No regrets!

Alas, I’m free.

Liberated from the cold embraces of sensual lust.

From the merciless gropings,

The sly kisses,

The lustful looks,

And acted feelings.

I escaped, still intact.

For many are those

who have fallen into the same pit of darkness,

And never smelt the freshness of the day.

I loved.

I cried.

I conquered.

Alone and with pride,

I walked on the moon,

Danced with the Stars,

Smiled in the sun,

the sky can still be blue.

Seconds chased minutes,

Minutes chased hours,

Hours chased days,

Days that seem like an eternity,

Niggling me with fears for the future.

But voila, came the transformation.

The return of the prodigal Romeo.

A sudden realisation of a lost pearl.

The sun rose from his face and set in my heart.

The moon strutted in his smile

The stars danced in his eyes.

“Will you be my wife?”

At the dusk of our acquaintance,

Happily together after

I know I will be the missing piece of his puzzle.

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