Like an explosion of flowers, the dawn was regal and malapert in her
ornamental garb—with Marabou plumes that strew a myriad of colours
over the spectre of darkness as she stood before me.
I gulped, enchanted by her glassy eyes relentlessly cascading soft ethereal
flakes of affection, imbuing me with a longing dusted in beguiling velvet.
Torn between Earth’s awakening and her−a dead ringer of somber
galactic comeliness, I beheld her−svelte and alluring and decked in the
chippings of naked desire; her infectious smile heralding the day break
and stirring the hunger in my gut.
She had spumes from a highball spewing over from her cut−crystal
tumbler−tall and flanked with crescent moons which she held out to me
like a Capodimonte rose.
I breathed the brisk air for a while. Then, let my eyes fall in declination
over her silky loins: “No, “ I whispered and turning away, squelched up the
sodden path. I knew I’d hurt her.
About the author…
Eremika Ebere is an avant-garde creative writer whose repertoire includes but is not limited to storytelling and poetry.
She’s a Petroleum and Gas Engineering student with writing skills that have earned her scholarships and global vacations. She polishes off articles and blog contents to the peak of standards and is very genial.