It was like playing symphony in the middle of the night

I got to know Pross, at the funeral,

Of her brother, the General,

Lugolobi from Bugolobi…

Her black gum, white teeth,

In the twilight of her teen-age

For she was a twin,

Like my friend Atwiine..

Her chocolate skin,

Left men akin..

Whence we clicked,

And, at once, a plug,

After that midnight and moonlight shadows

Huge hugs, our teeth somehow met..

While the old women mourned,

We agreed to mourn,

In one or two ways , next noon!

Since mourning is a mere show,

Of a feeling, anyhow…

Once I joined campus,

By then the only real campus ,

We hooked up at once,

Like snow in this snow-less country..

There was hunger,

Her waist, weight lifting mine,

Mining..

Her smooth straight legs,

At times with black leggings,

Left other boys begging..

Thier tails, wagging,

Except Micheal,

The guy who later, married his cutie,

At the alter

It was like playing symphony in the middle,

Of the night, winds blowing south,

The Crascendo and concerto,

Electric guiter,

As the hoarse voice, some times tanor,

Juxtaposed with suprano,

Like playing symphony,

In the middle of the night,

Under moonlight shadows…