Courtesy Is Non-Sense

A Poem

O’dear yellowish pale cheeks shinning mirrored by a cracked trunk keeps her busy, shouting lonely. — Suddenly Ichiko sings on the back ringing a war we did not cause warming the sour of our breath.

The night crumbs put us steady letting us revel in liberty a final wish to be whole. Thus hold on little one its dawn is yet to come far as the waited sun on July.

Shame the bandit comes back begging what’s left in my head. O’dear sharpen the claymore once more too long we fight this combat yet bucklers of my mind won’t tear pushed across by oaths and swings keeping her wounded by holding.

She yells me rashly pointing the world on a blame and burn the dignity to ash. Courtesy is a senseless concept not needed as cried statues which I’m sculpting still.

Thus I kiss the colors of her lips zipping the unchecked innocence a bloody memento for the moon which no longer perfect as its comrade we wish to come ran away long before.

© Yusuf Kahfi 2023