Poetry — When it takes a stroll with my body,
in a night drenched in a light-hearted rain,
my heart explodes into rosy fireworks. When rain droplets plant pecks
all over my coffeed body,
my mind spins in gleeful rings. My body coils and curls into folds,
at the explosion and spinning;
raring for a swathing place. Beloved body, drop a deep curtsy to the truth:
I am Rivers;
My capital is Rainy. © Deborah Woruka 2023. All Rights Reserved.