Gabriella Garofalo writes

Storms ‘n’ strawberries in the heat,

I’ll be melting -

Oh, look at her, the bride in a mirage

Of chiffon and silk,

Mauve now that I walk over it -

Look, shall my stare stay eternal

If I trample over hope and green?

God, are you a rebel or a colonial? Whatever,

I saw her amongst the eyes of beggars and winos,

Among wheel-chaired young and clouds rotting away,

I saw her hanging around with her henchman,

That rotten maverick June -

C’mon, c’mon now with fake sweet nothings,

C’mon with cheap smiles, here they come

Xeroxing their dna, here they come

Waiting for some little clones,

The nonchalant silos all in red -

I know, God, they breed, but, look,

The lizards, they know better and dart away -

I know, God, they breed, but, look,

The lady at the café, so sweet was her smile

Many years later they found out

Blind white bones deep down her cupboard -

‘You failed big time’, I told him,

‘So did you’ God smiled while mothers

Went shopping loaded with totes and kids -

Or were they comets feeding on useless targets?

Me? What that’s got to do with me?

What do you mean?

Look, have you forgot by any chance that peeping

Can look very innocent if need be?

Peeping Beauty -- Isiavwe Ufuoma