Aderonke Adeyeye's Blog

  Akanke, Tell me if I lie when I say that the sun rises and sets with your beauty, Tell me if it is untrue that upon your Innocence and womanliness does the moon set out to shine beautifully across the night sky. Aderonke, You know I don't tell a lie when I say that I want you. It is without Shame that I go to bed at night imagining you lying on my bosom Your head cradled softly in the crook of my arms I wouldn't whine or shout for pain even if my arm was hurting Because you mean to me more than a lost arm and perhaps a fractured bone. Abike, They ask why I don't stop singing your praises, Why of all the maidens in the land, your name is what I sing from sunset to sunrise. Am I to tell them of your sweet voice that I love to listen to as you fetch water by the stream? Or of your tiny beaded waist that calls and entrap me as you walk past my house to meet Ajio, the cocoa merchant? Or of your ample bosom that I want rest my head upon till the end of my life? Or of how you br

 Your study's window opens directly to face my bedroom window. And I love it just like that. I bet you do too because you always seem to seek me out after dark when your wife is asleep and all lights are off in your apartment except your study's. And I am always ready, waiting for you to take you seat at your desk. And your eyes, those dark lethal eyes that pierced when our gazes fall on each other as we walk by ourselves in the streets of Jankarada, were always ready to watch me do my little strip tease for you. Then I stand by the window of my lit bedroom, my flimsy curtain drawn together, but I bet you saw my silhouette. You saw every curve, every shape, every line that described my womanhood. I stand wearing my sleeping robe. But not for too long before I let  them down, falling in a pool of soft velvety delight at my feet.  I stare at you through the curtain. You stare back. Unflinching. Unmoving. No expressions as you watch me wiggle to the soft voice of Nonso Amadi, your