Each night, my body turns restlessly,
Swimming through perspiration.
While hoping no, praying,
That maybe, God willing,
I catch a whiff of your perfume,
Buried in the soul of my pillowcase.
It’s been a few days,
Which feel like weeks or even years.
I know this is a futile attempt,
But life feels impossible without your support.
So I dig deeper,
Like my nose was a drill,
And I could somehow unearth the gold that once plated these sheets.
The masculinity,
The mood, ambience, silent whispers.
The experience both exhilarating and comforting,
Why aren’t you next to me?
A.
Akunna Ezekwem 