….bite at her neck and gain territory, melt the sleet on her cold heart in sparking chemistry… Make her inhibitions evaporate with heated intimacy ,weaken her knees and compel her instinctive guards to join your infantry…

Sink the tip of your fingers on her flesh delicately,nibble on her earlobes and whisper erotic absurdity…

Twerk her nipples ,till sensation ripples and trembles her entire physicality…

Quell her internal itching, make her squirm ,till she claw and evoke her Felinity,

Demarcate her neck with embroidery of hickies and seed her fertility with a love legacy.

Broody Hen.

A Narrative.

©copyright reserved -Afrika Zwelibanzi.

A Sonnet And More.

Up all night trying to squeeze you into a sonnet,

To measure your personality with the metre of iambic pentameter.

To emphasize your sense of attitude with paired couplets,

Divide your striking attributes in rhyming quatrains, a prosody parameter.

In fourteen lines,I would canvas your astounding humor,

With seven rhymes I’d paint the innocence in your eyes,

And how your abrupt mood swing is a harsh volta.

I would praise the feline hip sway in your strides,

The beauty you fail to hide even when you’re angered,

The poetry your being recites when you dance,

The resonance of your voice when your laughter is triggered,

The innate inclinations you convey by a simple glance.

All night I squeeze you into a Sonnet my Love,

Fourteen lines,seven rhymes and yet it is not enough.
Picture📷: Black Poetry
A Broody Hen

The Narrative

© copyright reserved.