To the lover who won’t make love on the Mainland by Oris Aigbokhaevbolo

As if by miracle you came by the office
Pen and post-it note:
“I came back for you…”

Phone call, email, beer, wine
Come over?
“You have light?”
Sometimes, but no gen
We might be lucky.
“Why don’t you come over?”

It’s awkward only if the fucking is good

Pink nipple in mouth
Two fingers stuck, unstuck in la-la land
White woman moans. Black tongue
Two-coloured limbs mishmash
There, there. THERE.

By morning, I leave you
Marks on your Caucasoid flesh—
A memory in a bed you’ll vacate.
You leave us,
dormant attraction sated.

You leave my country
You leave me—
Hankering after you
With the futility of good sentences
written in bad verse.