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  • yours_trulyy 10w


    As far as matters skin,
    Would yours be thick or thin?
    Would you call yourself the rhino?
    Be he regular shade or albino,
    Or would you rather the mighty hippo,
    Needing water everywhere he go?

  • yours_trulyy 11w


    If shoulders could paint, yours would create a Monalisa of my face.
    If pillows could calculate, ours would sum up all our tears together.
    If lips could fuss, yours would about all the times I've laid mine on them.
    If eyes were paparazzi, yours would sell footage of me being vulnerable.
    Could the moon tell tales, she'd tell on our naked escapades under her gaze.
    Had our couch speech, it'd bemoan all our evenings on it cuddled.
    If your rose flower were a studio, it'd replay all the unintelligible lyrics I made you sing through it.
    Were bossoms x-rays, yours would produce side profiles of my head on it.
    Could kisses germinate then dear you'd be my walking plantation!

  • yours_trulyy 12w


    Millenia ago according to the oral traditions of my people, our ancestors never needed the weather service. They could tell the turning of the seasons by mere observation seeing as they had no calendars as well.
    The jungles were teeming with game and other resources, and no one needed to hoard anything.
    People used to be different too, realizing that they were all individual parts of a universal whole.
    The rains were regular and much more reliable than is the case today. Sadly not anymore.
    Such are the woes of climate changing, going out of natural sync, all for the sake of so called modernization!

  • yours_trulyy 12w


    Words, infectious first cousins to thoughts,
    Words, animated second cousins to emotions,
    Words, the excitable aunt always inciting utterance at get togethers!

  • yours_trulyy 12w


    Going against the grain, is the sanding of the Soul,
    Over and over again, irregardless of the toll,
    Such is the existence, of a Soul independent,
    With dogged insistence, vitality resplendent.

  • yours_trulyy 12w


    "Gustave!" Amaka exclaimed in her mind as she watched her sister, Nkechi, being dragged from the banks of the Rusizi River, in the massive jaws of the 20 foot juggernaut of a Nile crocodile! She knew it was the legendary one tonne man-eater by the three bullet scars along his back and deep machete wounds on his right shoulder blade.
    He hadn't been seen for years so the locals had started to consider him dead, but, lo, there he was, thrashing her flailing sister around like a ragdoll with his immense frame!
    She had no time to think so she waded into the water after them, diving down where she saw them submerge and the water was still bubbling. She followed the underwater vibrations then felt and grabbed the monster's powerful tail, who in turn yanked them all back to the surface.
    "Amaka!" Nkechi yelled out for her as they all gasped for air. Glad her sister was still alive, yet dismayed at seeing no one on either bank of the river, Amaka now braced herself to face Gustave. Feeling something prick her thigh, she felt for her pocket underwater and said a mental 'Hallelujah' when her hand drew out a pen!
    Swimming along the reptile's body, she came to his large head then just as she lifted the pen, aiming at his right eye, the shrewd animal began what seemed like endless death rolls in an effort to tear her sister apart while keeping her at bay! The force shook her off but Amaka doggedly swam right back in, grabbing onto the rolling mass tightly. Again she felt her way to the monster's head and when they were half airborne on a spin, timed a well aimed thrust of her sharp pen right into Gustave's eye and drove it all the way in without remorse!
    The beast let off his grip on her sister and disappeared underwater. Amaka grabbed her now exhausted twin and swam them both back to the bank and onto dry land. Nkechi was bleeding badly, having lost her foot about mid thigh down to the predator.
    Gustave would later be taken out by anti government rebels in the conflict that ensued in the Congo months later.
    "I don't like it when you recount that horrific event," says the now fifty six year old Nkechi scolding Amaka, as they whiled the evening away on the front porch of their home in Toulouse, France. They are glad to be alive.
    Amaka knows she would rather have died that day than live without her beloved twin.

  • yours_trulyy 13w


    Mysterious beautiful nocturnal sky,
    Sibling to the diurnal who's azure to the eye,

    Has always been close to my awareness,
    And putting aside any and all unfairness,

    In you the gods make their habitation,
    My partner in crimes of imagination!

  • yours_trulyy 13w


    On the scales of justice, the feather outweighs the stone!

  • yours_trulyy 13w

    ON SET.

    So last night on my astral wanderings I fell upon a scenario which I confess I did not myself consciously choose.
    I was the leader of a SWAT-like unit on a mission, and though we incurred some casualties I am glad that none were fatal. We did not lose any member of our team.
    I can remember giving non verbal hand signals to my unit, and suffice it to say that this was by far the coolest thing I ever did in the astral!

  • yours_trulyy 13w


    Wonder. A word I use a lot,
    Try I might, stop I cannot,
    I guess tis a word,
    That describes me best,
    My soul as a bird,
    Hardly ever at rest,
    Seeming to wander,
    As a rule of thumb,
    If ever at rest,
    My guess? It goes numb!