Short Brogues Poems

Conceived of wool and birthed Siamese
In grand factories by hands unheard.
My socks move into separate drawers
Like orphaned siblings.

Soon
Each of my six pairs are strangers
that move in perfect lockstep
inside loafers in offices, brogues in churches and Chucks in clubs.
Then—

For nights’ sakes, on the floor;
Rolled rainbows of imperfect donuts.
Who thinks of unmatched socks 
while he sucks in his gut to be a body stacked atop another,
to love?...

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From a distance I saw the way she was staring at him
I couldn't possibly fathom what she felt cos I haven't been in
He must have captured her heart and ‘fort knoxxed’ it
I could see the love drool from her eyes and I loved it
Loved seeing that look and wish I were at the end of those eyes
Not exactly hers, but to be like that is someone's heart
I admire such beauty in love and it gladdens my spirit from within
I wish I could step into his brogues and experience it feels...

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