WHEN I WAS OLDER

Is it the money? Is it convenience? Is it the blood flowing through my veins or the Divine’s own will?

I have burnt the Ferrari just because I could. I have seen things, not just the things I thought to, but the things she wanted to. Is she beautiful? Pray the good Lord keep her. How else can a man feel at home if not by his own smile or better yet hers.

Perspective garnishes the sin or fizzles away its intensity. the blood of the lamb on my lintel. Is it sin, is it not? I have no idea, but I soak my garri with sugar and salt, be it to every man as he deems fit. 

I could study my reflection in the water, these eyes, this face, my teeth, these smile marks are constant. I have started having beards accompanied with this mustache. My nose, the good Lord has his plans.

I remember when I was older, I was royalty, I was a king. I had my queen, I am not sure of the children, but my great grandfather said I took the kingdom as my family and only God, my queen, my soul quest I differentiated from the kingdom. But of my death, he said no one knew how, it was like I was taken up by the wind into another dimension, the reason the affinity for GREY. He said the only royalty who wore grey because all other colors fade.

 “When I was older I saw you, I think I saw you smile.”