How frequent are the rains in this part
that, each day, thick cloaks marry my skin;
still, shivers stroll up my spine
and wipe any warmth from me clean.
If before I had not learnt about snow
I would argue its guise as rain
and if I had not felt you close before
I would look away and not take the pain.
Dearest B, pray, I need you now
packaged and delivered at my door,
better still, conjured by an itinerant witch
that no stress would taint the one I adore.
Now come, rescue me, my walls may give way soon,
stay in my arms from night till noon.
I know, like Peru to China we are miles apart
but make the trip my dearest B;
shame distance and the price it has placed
plus your responsibilities and come to me.
You are the reason my heart has not gone cold
for the love we share causes friction inside
and the heat – our seed – gives hope
that soon, under same roof, we’ll both abide.
So come, with your warmth and your grace,
ignite me, love me all your days.
Written by: Jude Uchella