Has nobody ever told you that the brown phobic lines on your balms are the lonely streets that leads to your tombstone?
If not, then you should know that the gongs from my mouth are the anthems of advice father played when the music of our dying snore lost it key and we tend to walk the footprints laid by demons and men alike. These of course, were always after our Psalm 51 and 29 morning prayers that were always preceded by scary dreams.
If you have never had a make-believe decoy that said ghosts hoist the paths we walked in daytime if we didn't overturn our chairs and seatings we left outside in the night then you should know that I attended classes taught with lanterns and carbonated fumes these of course were mainly when we went searching for snails our fathers forgot to pick before they died.
If you never attended lessons in summer where you were taught that money is the universal language that had more intonations than French and stood taller than English, then maybe you should know that when people say they've trekked the fence between poverty and a bag of mean riches, they mean more than that.
If someone asks you to spell the letters of death I hope you won't be stupid enough to begin with the letter 'D' because death is never something that begins with a letter so 'd'ear
Has somebody ever ask you to count the letters of love? I hope you counted you too without a smile Because we too, are numbers of love laced with skins and hairs and love is not amongst the lines or potholes we ignorantly call, . dimples.
Photo credit : Screenshot from a movie scene