With every puff – sweet withdrawal – I lace my eyes with the beauty that is your face – genteel in the smoky haze and lifting my soul higher than Sunday school.
With every huff, imagined sensation dribbles down my spine, your hand in mine, a soft twirl or tease intertwined, willing action to pause for precaution.
With every cough, I interject dismay or disarray or dishevelled disagreement…but what I really feel…what I really want to do is ravenously inhale you some more.
With every other rough, day, night or weekend I come to you…on my hands and knees, with my bands and needs to be urgently taken in your soft embrace.
So lush, so soft…so plush, so oft imagined as the sole solution to this loneliness I feel. Pass it on then, shall we?
By Anthony Benjamin Adeaba.
30th October 2019.