The Last Supper

Words unformed spill down my thoughts as tears not cried struggled to hold still within my eyes.
My heart beat faster within it’s thoracic cage. I couldn’t hold back my emotions.
My mouth trembled struggling to pour words, out yet failed, succeeding in just its tremor
As I tasted the best Jollof rice man had ever conceived to make.
“This is what happiness tastes like” I informed myself, as I made a mental note to never forget God’s existence.
Only God could have inspired man in our ignorance to formulate something called Jollof.
You know how “Hallelujah” is regarded as the Heavenly language? I’m sure Jollof is served in heaven also.
God is good.

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