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UNTITLED

Purple-blue nail polish
and very dark bleach,

orangey-yellow sneaker
to go with some cracker.
Black tee shirt,
black pants,
black sweats,
and a very pale heart.
By half the day,
more is stolen away.
In twisted irony,
I sit back and enjoy,
the sickly-orange sun
sinking in such awkward turn,
down a horizon
I think I can reach out and touch,
to feel the slippery leaves:
the dew on them,
the very weak stem,
the hills skipping,
balancing the sun inbetween her laps.
And feel the sun, hot, but not burning.
Cool in the kind of way
that's hard to tell or perhaps,
it's just the day
that's not right
and all I wish for is one so bright,
I have to shield my eyes
to look at my nails.
g.o.
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SEVEN MINUTES IN HEAVEN

seven minutes in heaven;
seven minutes counting
heart beats by the second.
six minutes in heaven;
all the while tapping feet
on shaky wooden floorboards
in nervous delight.

five minutes in heaven;
five minutes counting
down to reality:
a beastly, slimy one.
four minutes in heaven;
wondering if by chance
or luck or grace,
a glimpse of an angel
 would suffice.

three minutes in heaven,
and lo a ladybird atop
your nose tickles,
dances, wiggles, jiggles,
then away,  flies.
two minutes in heaven,
two minutes or the next,
daydreams finally might come
to be:
visions of sunny skies,
silly side aching laughs_
chocolatey gums,
all on display
for my ever aching eyes.

a minute left in heaven
the last, the longest,
the shortest it seems,
the last before you wake
and stare at
the computer screen
in a crowded
noisy bureau,
someplace.

you sigh.
"of course it was unreal."

Grace Oluchi Okogwu

 meme si mes yeuxs me pique, je vois