Golden Sin

I couldn’t help myself,

Her caramel-colored coating, some might have called her a yellowbone,

You know #TeamLightskin,

I know I shouldn’t have, but all I needed was to taste her sinful paradise,

Take a peak beneath what looked like a tough coating,

But beneath my lips it fell away,

Like the leaves on a Sunday afternoon in autumn.

Autumn,

Often I think about your subtle flavors,

Flowing over me, not like water,

You were sticky,

Sweet like butterscotch, you hooked me onto your deadly insides,

I know you’re not good for me,

But I keep running back for more, and more, and more,

I consume and you tell me the next time will be better than before,

I fight myself, raging wars of desire,

I can’t let you take me higher,

Wait a minute, I can’t believe I wrote all of this over an Oatmeal Butterscotch cookie.

 

– Yaone W J Kgabi a.k.a. Po

The Writer Un(b)locked

One year and eleven days ago,

I published a piece about writer’s block.

And since then,

In one year and eleven days,

I have managed to avoid the responsibility of writing to you.

 

One year and eleven days ago,

I was on the edge of a cliff,

With one foot dangling over,

And one year and eleven days later,

I’m back,

Ready to keep on running.

 

– Yaone W J Kgabi a.k.a. Po