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Love Is… | A Poem by Ajise Vincent

a wooden flute
whose note mud
coils of war.

a wheelchair
to cripple emotions
that can’t tread to affection’s market.

an antidote
to dreams that
have been kissed by the cobra.

a kola nut
that dies so as to pass peace
to the conscience of warring-kings.

a town crier
that adumbrate riddles of truth
to the ears of mortals.

a balm of the present
to massage
pangs of yore.

Love is simply life.


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