Mundu hu mundu, is what it need to be, but before we are there, simba akikosa nyama hujaribu kula nyasi.

I at times long for that touch, the breath of a woman next to my ear.
I long for those nights where we wrestle in bed.
I long for those moments where a heart beats next to mine.
I long for the touch that weakens me.
I long for the gasp, the whimper, the silent scream of pleasure as we ***.
I long for those days where we kiss and am hard as a maasai warrior,
I long to have her in my arm to see her melt,  
I loong for such, but not with a stranger, not with one night stand, but with one we have a mutual understanding, where we fulfill each unmet needs.

As we lay down on the bed exhausted and satiated, we just doze off with a smile in our mouths. It was a great time we had.

The blue moon phenomenon is true,
A glimpse of tomorrow today is a gem.
Its not often that the wind gathers all leaves of same plant below it.
Its a sign of consolidation, great human interaction. When all of one know each other but not. But unsure of future

I.
I lean my head on your shoulder after reading
one too many sentences from my history book
and it tickles the back of your neck and you laugh
which I love to hear and you don't
move away so I'm hopeful that maybe you like
the way my head feels on your shoulder or
the way it tickles or the smell of my peppermint gum
that reaches your nostrils because of our closeness
or the fact that I chose you over the table in the purple room
to rest my head on.

II.
I ask you to dump out the bucket of dingy mop water
because it's too heavy and the storage room is small
but not too small for two that want to be close
and you almost don't want to but I give you a smile
with hints of seductivity so sweet that you can't resist
so you agree with just the traveling of my fingertips
across your chest and the unmistakable look in my eye
and we are comfortably cramped in this broom cupboard
but we hear keys so we keep closing.

III.
I walk out into the parking lot and the initial breeze cools
my sweat-kissed skin fresh from cleaning and I look
for your car and you smile with your adorable dimples
from behind your dashboard and I get excited
because there was tension we both felt but
once our manager drives away we can be alone
and you can prove you could win in a fight
that we know will lead to something else.

IV.
I walk up to your window
and your bromance enveloped best friend
is burning your hookah in the passenger seat
and at first I contemplate just returning the name tag
you let me steal and driving down Harvard to go home
but I'm hesitant because the promise of something
of anything is better than nothing so I ask to sit next to you
because the breeze is biting more now.

V.
I start to pick up hints after listening to talks
of football and strategies for fifteen minutes
and that certain promise becomes more like a facade
but I wait for you to tell him you're gonna get going
but instead you whisper that to me
and ask if he wants to go get food
as I'm getting up from the seat
so I ask for a hug as I'm leaving
and you ask if you can let go now
and I get it.

VI.
I hand you back your name tag
and you tell me to get home safe
and I don't even bother to sigh or look back
because I already hear your car running.

*February 13, 2014 2:39:47 PM

Let be free,
free to air our thoughts
free to make mistakes,
Free to avoid guilt and self hate,

But above all,  lets be slaves of hope.
Hope that our tomorrow, will be better than the past.
Hope that we are expecting better,
Hope that a smile today will lead to laughter tomorrow.

am just fantasising about you, your sweet body, those ***** sweet kisses. The heart warming sensual moans as our bodies rock, and I slide into that sweet honeypot.

I can still feel the tremors of pleasure as I go deeper and deeper into you. I Love the smell our sticky bodies as we wash each other with our body juices.

My bedroom mistress, I yearn to learn more from your wealth of the act. You are an artist and I wish to be your apprentice. Teach me, let me do the practicals. Grade me, but let me have retakes.

Let me scoop the honey,
let me lick every drop,
Let me get drunk,
Allow me to savour the life dregs,

Let my fingers play the fiddle,
Let me sing and waltz to the rhythm,
Let me strike the notes in crescendo,
Allow me to drown in the melody.

Our song will have no words,
The music will not be meant for more than a pair of ears.
In our studio of five by six,
We will edit and launch our album,
And on our memory wall it will hang,
As the best platinum album of 2019.

You are too stingy with yourself my dear,
let me have a slice,at least two slices of you.
Let me savour you, allow me to salivate into your wholeness. Let me drool and lust into your experiences.
Your joys let me have a sip, your sorrows let me have a bit.
Your care freeness, entrust it into my strong hands.
Let me know what clogs you, chokes you and simmers you. Let me ride in your strength, and measure the depth of your sorrow.
Let me light the darkened soul candle and quiten your heart thunders,
Just let me in,
into your soul,
So that I can see the world through your eyes,
Taste the waters with your tongue, and know how roses smell to you.
Let me know how pain feels to your, and probably I will know why I misunderstand you

We love to change clothes,
we love shoes for running, hicking and strutting on the catwalk.
We love to smell sweet, ****, confident and **** plane mad.
We love costumes to look like angels or monsters.
We are a slave to change,
we complain when wear same for so long.
We seek out illicits, to get the variety.

Anothers mind and soul, is what we seek. But the self loath.
We give testimonies, of how I was and know how I am.
We change hairstyles, upgrade our accents.
We long to experience others, in yourself.

This mire and bog, has seen great minds simplified.
Seen whelps turn to fierce dogs,
Has seen urchins turn to masters.
Has seen those who bow, being bowed to.

In our quest for difference, we take alters and influencers.
We stimulate and live our imagination,
Till we become trapped and eventually lose ourselves.

Though we flirt, with drugs, alcohol, religion and mantras
let our aliases not take over us.