Photo by Tobias Rademacher on Unsplash

She said we were dating on the marriage track.
And I didn’t know what to say, we were on the run and
the roars of bombshells was our backing track.

We folded our promises till they were in a stack,
and set them ablaze.
Watched I love you’s ember and float up for days.

Then she turned left,
and I turned right.
Without as little as a stiff goodbye.

It’s left a pin in my heart all these years,
I’m not going to lie.

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The other year, I dyed my hair blonde to channel my inner Targaryen.
But my dragons were demons
And I was moving mad with mischief all the time.
It was like life gave me cool, pressed lemonade, but I tasted lime;
So I was Icarused, cut down in my prime.
And now I’m all packed up and moving to London,
In the hopes that some Saturday night on the Tube I’ll sit on an Iron throne again.

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Clean your mouth, you on-
ly eat breakfast once. Every-
thing else is just snacks.

Last last, na everybody go chop, clean mouth

Nigerian version

Chop, clean mouth. You on-
ly eat breakfast once. Every-
thing else na small chops.

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I have kept…the receipts three years after you’ve left,
and aired them on a Spring cleaning.
Souvenirs in memory of episodes cast
and binged while we lay landlocked in bed on weekends.
And as my stream ends and I shuffle off Spotify’s vocal coil,
I wish you knew,
I love you in every universe,
I, still, want you everywhere, every way, all of you at once.
You ignored my letters, so I’ve turned to verse.
Spring is falling, and I’ve turned a mess.
Summer’s calling and London’s at its best.
So I’ll leave you,
tomorrow.
But I’m replaying episodes first.

Photo by Jonathan Borba on Unsplash

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