Songs of Anisha
“She,”
by Adebayo Akinloye
she roams like a sentence without a period
she stands like a perfectly misplaced preposition
in a simple sentence
she gazes queryingly like a strand of question-mark
she yearns for morrow like a future tense
she looks blue like a noun in want of a pronoun
she’s a gorgeous girl like an adjective
in its superlative
she’s concise precise like a one-word sentence
she’s charming and even
like the figure after seven
she’s slim as two divided by two
she’s overwhelming like Chinese characters
she’s a hypertensive interjection
a stroke of comma and
an eventual full-stop.
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