I let you seat in a corner of the chambers of my heart,
love in the short-run seemed to fly without wings.

Now, looking into the depths of your famished soul mirrored by promising doe-like eyes,
the long-run is certain.

Then and only then,
does “I love you” to me cease to be mere organized english letters.
It becomes the native spice to a forgotten recipe,
more so when blended with truth and heated by action;
It is soul food.

Susan Nwaobiala
Author: Susan Nwaobiala

Susan Nwaobiala is currently a year-three Literature major in the University of Ilorin, Kwara, Nigeria. She reviews books, writes contents for blogs, is interested in mental health, and likes to interact with people through her bedroom window.

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