Harmattan Blows

Harmattan is here
Harmattan is here
What a fiendish friend you are
Almost at the nick of time
You rushed in like the waves of space

Harmattan! carrier of my shame
Stealing into my horns and sundry lines
You raved!
You dared!
With brackish colors and awful stripes
Of lines
Of dry scales
Peeling slowly
The tabular sketching on my skinny legs
And my mouth’s corner …..
Ahhhhhh….. dripping blood

My dear harmattan
My real hammer blows
Winding in the winds like a spirit you are
And I spit the tasteless dry spittle
To wet the corners of my scarred lips

Hips, hips!
Embrace!
Embrace!
The leftovers of a dry sunny octave
On a dagger point
I cannot hold
And contortions of my aching body
And thirsty dry leaves
And cigarettes.

by Manngoime

Share This Tale

Share on facebook
Share on twitter
Share on email

Join Written Tales

Helping connect readers & writers!

Recommended Tales

Emotions

Alone

Alone I betray myself and lovers who took notice of a profile photo by the wayside with a spider’s old

Read More »
Emotions

The Spark

There’s always a spark. The spark. The flash that ignites the fire. Just a glow at first, then a blaze.

Read More »

Leave a Comment

Join Written Tales
Helping readers & writers connect!