Tuesday Poem by Dami Ajayi
Tonight, you found my ire
where I carefully hid it;
You forced the hands of goodwill.
Rising voices betray frayed nerves
What is the use of anger
if not to dissolve resolve?
If not to throw vicious sputum skyward
& let it drop on the face.
Such exhibitionism!
I have tried to digest my doubt
with stowed away enzymes.
But if this is all of your love
then my food allergies are kind.