A Stretch Of Love Poem by Felix Bongjoh

(i)

How far can love
climb beyond
a star-punctured
ceiling sitting
on a sky's tower?

How far does
a gallop on horseback
rise above a mountain

of air on air
sitting on the afterfeathers
of a bird's drift?

How far does
a skyscraper's light climb
to melt in a cloud,

only silver leaves
of air and wind twirling
in ripples of love,

the fondles of air I tow
into my drifting
lungs sitting in a ship
of you and me,

the only sails moon showers
of wisteria and orchids
riding graffiti
spinning out of your smile?

(ii)

How many steps
shall I climb
through the flight of stairs

to bulbs melting
out of the candle wax
of your sailing grin?

I'll meet you
in our ship sitting
on a moon arc

jumping up from a stretchy sea,
a forest of waves
building the garden archway
to wheel me to the window

of your hand-flipped beckon
woven by cream
roses of air galloping
through beds of phlox,

the blanket of you
that covers me under moon-lit
waves and straight lines
of light falling on the angle

weaving my palm
into yours with golden threads
of memory floating
you and me down a river lane.