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Dirontsho Mangoali Poem
Maybe it was just a dream, a fantasy.
A dream so sweet I could tang its scent.
A fantasy roughly you and I on top of the world.
A dream so flawless nothing can relate.
A dream so splendid I could perish for.
I doubt it was a dream for it felt so real, the after effects aches like a death.
It was not a dream when you and I were in love and the entire world was on a stand still.
It was not a dream when I felt my heart inside your chest.
When you took a breath it was for the two of us.
I did not need to breathe or hurt as you already did that for me.
You knew my every thought and at times you thought for me.
Your touch was the cure that mended every little pain in the native me.
Your voice, your voice was music to my ears that I listened to every second without a pause.
When we were together my heart didn’t take a beat, it just made those sounds.
I was so high in love rehab was not an option.
Do you remember?
Remember once our figures stirred to the Spanish quitter, you inside me dancing tango, the bed was our dance hall.
Walls observed in silence as they never seen such beauty, applause we performed the greatest show on earth.
Greatest show they will not once forget.
Tell me I was fantasizing when my figure became your sanctuary that you worshiped and suckle your soul with.
Was I fantasizing when you fleece your heart out for me?
I was the only thing that made sense when none made sense.
I twirled like a jezebel but you merely saw an angel.
I doubt I was fantasizing when my dreams became our dreams, when my eyes became our eyes, when my heart became our heart.
Maybe it was just a fantasy however nothing ever stroked so real.
The fantasy I lived for a second and grieved for a life time.
The fantasy I desire never arose as it takes my gasp away and the thought of pending back to life to live its effects is tormenting.
For a moment I recollect it was not a fantasy.
It’s the reality that you and I shared yet battle to overlook.
It’s the reality that makes me wonder is there genuineness?
Is there such a thing as a dream, because to me these things are different yet the same.
The cave this reality left in my heart can gulp the entire state and however, however all you say is words I didn’t know occurred in your jargon.
Verses that shake my humility as I understand maybe it was just a fantasy but I was alone in it.
I realize you never part of this dream; you just stroll along with the visionary.
Copyright © Dirontsho Mangoali | Year Posted 2014
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Dirontsho Mangoali Poem
The scariest thing is opening my soul to you my guest.
As I watch you walk up the red carpet in my chest approaching my heart, the thought of opening these doors in my heart is inflexible.
You the flawless guest for the perfect event behind these doors.
You dressed in Gucci from head to toe, cologne scent too perfect to be gasped.
The knot of your tie perfectly made no slave was to survive this knot.
Shoes shinning like a mirror I can see myself smiling to your approach.
Menthols were made from your breathe as I can feel your breathe from miles and miles away.
You are the perfect guest for this event happening inside my chest.
The touch of your finger let alone the hand is just magical.
Magic I never felt since my mother touched me for the first time.
Smiling as she held me in her arms close to her heart.
As she touched me with those hands that had magic at that moment, butterflies flee in my tiny tummy hence I gave my first cry.
You give the same touch yet I struggle to cry, instead I just freeze.
This feeling I have felt before yet it was from the purest love, could yours be pure?
Could this feeling be as pure as that I felt on my first hour on earth?
Copyright © Dirontsho Mangoali | Year Posted 2014
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