The lipstick roll of thick red colour
Concealed the lips infested.
Lips blackened and parched
Not from the smoke of tobacco
Nor the sanctification of nicotine
But from the searing heat of invective
Hanging at the doors of her mouth.
Aglow with red beauty,
The gates of Hell; luscious and lethal,
Grief and pain it breathed out,
Discord and disorder its gift of words,
Scorn and contempt her benevolence.
Father and sons pitched into warring sides,
Friends into sworn enemies,
A husband driven to the noose
And another yet to be found.
Would rather a cannon I set upon my lips
Than into the fury of Hell lick.
Gunpowder I’ll cast upon my tongue,
Chew into the tasteless chaff of sawdust
Than the sensual feelings from luscious lips.
One day you’ll bite your lips and bleed
And burn in the Hell it harbours
© Adeoye Adetoba