Is This Love

Her hair slides through my hands like butter when spread on bread. So smooth and silky!

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Her skin is like that of a leopard, a smooth skin with little little tiny spots, caused by Africa demons called mosquitoes.

She was a shy girl, now grown into a stubborn lovely lady.

When I look into her eyes, she covers her face with her French 2 textbook. Who knows about love and intimacy than the French.

The way she talks, how she mix french with English and blends it with Ewe; an indigenous language in Ghana. Everything she does, inspire something new in me.

Watching her read, smile, her hypocrisy when pretending to be asleep tickles the most sensual part of me.

All she does give me joy. Joy that words can’t express or explain. She is intimacy, she glides when walking and her graces captivate and kept captive my soul.

I lied down beside her, watching her read as I scribbled these words and immortalised my expression of her like a painter.

Is this love, what I am feeling.  Can you please tell Me?

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