Colours Of Flame Poem by Izuchukwu Onyedibiemma Udokwu

If love is holding your hand and not know when you leave,
Then love is evenly pulling you to me,
In a room stale with tired air,
And kissing your burning lips.

But that's having the earmarks of hell's melody,
Making love to you while you walk out of the country,
To be with the boy of blustery leaf.

If love is the blush-heart-emoji you send to my inbox,
Then I've been glowing in the inferno of your lies.

Dancing with naked feet to the harmonies on the flaming Hades of your tongue,
Was falling in love with you,
With the roots of your soul,
With the sheerness of your feet,
And with the skeleton of your hair.