Love. Blessing.

She came wearing a mist’s regalia
Until the sound of her voice came
Tearing through the uncertainty
If she were mine and if we were us.
Her touch, gentle enough
will quell the storm of questions
Rising violently on my inside.
If magic is real,
It exists only in her eyes
For they send me back to Eden
To be by the beautiful river
Drinking, swimming and
Slowly falling in love.
At every bite of fruits forbidden
I forbid myself to be out of this love.

Victor Oyedele