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Mama Mada
I Call It Love
by Am ina Daud a Osem e
We dined at sunrise dock on fish pepper soup he cooked for us.
I ate,
We laughed,
I called it love.
He spoilt me silly with polished things
Crystal stones; diamonds, pearls—nice things I could never have.
But he adored me more,
I called it love.
He bellowed on bended knee
(that day at the bar) as
He announced to the world
I said yes.
I wept,
We danced,
I called it love.
He shoves me three flights of stairs.
Chokes my neck until I beg.
Bruises my arm; treats me like dirt.
Through it all,
Every day,
I call it love.
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