I Recoil
I recoil when whips are lashedAt backs, backs that give warmth
to suckling babies.
A drunken head
Eyes that are redened
Legs that are wobbly
from your nocturnal ride
you descend on
hands that cook treasured meals
A special hand that makes the bed
That rocks the baby.
Emeka Chike Nwogu
Poetry by Emeka Chike Nwogu
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Written on 2006-03-21 at 11:51
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