by Oyindamola Shoola
You are everything men are taught to want;
everything they say, we'll need to be complete.
You cook "fire,"
even Jacob would desire,
and when you clean,
it's like hiding a crime scene.
You speak God, love, and money
with a voice as sweet as honey.
You know how to turn up in the streets
and with a love for books, share some wits.
Folake, I can praise heavens out of you
and spend the sky to prove my woo
but every time I confess my love,
you dip them in my anxious sweat to dissolve.
Yesterday, you replied with "thank you,"
and on Sunday you said, "Jesus loves you too."
On the days you give me a taste of hell,
you respond with "aww," "k," and "oh well."
Note on plagiarism:
I appreciate that you admire my original work which I take deep pride in.
Poems posted on my website have been posted on my instagram page as well. By all means, you can share my work, giving me credit for it.
Mis-representing my work as someone else's is plagiarism and if found, will not be taken likely. If you find or suspect a plagiarism of my work(s), please send an email to email@example.com with reference to where the plagiarism was found.
For publishing opportunities and collaborations, don't hesitate to reach out to me via email as well.