Sometimes love isn’t loud.
It doesn’t always arrive with flowers,
or surprise visits,
or hours spent side by side.

Sometimes,
it’s in the late replies that still feel warm.
In the tired voice that still says “I love you.”
In the silence that doesn’t feel empty
because we know—deep down—we’re still choosing each other.

It’s in a random meme sent at 2AM,
just to say, “I saw this and thought of you.”
In a soft “pagod ako,”
not as a complaint, but as a quiet letting in—
letting me be part of your exhaustion.

It’s in the everyday check-ins:
“kumain ka na?”
“nakauwi ka na ba?”
Not just questions,
but little reminders that say:
I care. I’m with you. Even from far away.

It’s in the way we stretch time,
make space,
find light in the middle of our chaos.
In the way you pause your busy day
just to make me feel remembered.

Love, for us,
isn’t always about presence—
it’s about intention.
It’s about showing up
in small, quiet ways
that matter more than anyone else sees.

We’re not always available.
But we’re always trying.
And that trying,
that choosing,
even in between work, sleep, and everything in between—
that’s where love lives.

Because even when we don’t say much,
even when we’re tired, busy,
or miles apart—
I still feel you.
And somehow,
that’s more than enough.

It’s a Sunday Morning where I am,
Lying warmly in bed.
It’s time to get my coffee
and catch a brief glimpse—
Through my small virtual window

I get to see,
A lot of different Saturdays
Happy faces in familiar supercuts,
Montages of their laughter,
No trace of sorrow or loss.

Everything is better in spring.
And the hearts I miss—
They seem happier in their spring.

Grateful I got this vibrant collage;
And more grateful still,
Summer’s sprinting towards me,
among the sun and joy, I’ll be.

Counting the long,
And lonely weeks
Until I’ll get to be
(Smiling)
on the other side of the screen.

Sa paglubog ng araw at pagsikat ng buwan.
Sa ihip ng hangin at patak ng ulan.
Sa pagdaan ng taon.
At sa bawat paglagas ng dahon.
Pangalan mo ang baon.
Sa pag-agos ng luha at sa paghikbi,
Sa pagsibol ng mangilan-ngilang ngiti.
Pauli-ulit na tatanawin,
Mga ala-ala mo na kumikinang kasama ng mga bituin.
Ikaw ang hiling.
Ikaw ang tinatangi.
Ikaw ang minimithi.
Ikaw ang sinta.
Ikaw ang payapa.
Ikaw ang pag-ibig.
Ikaw ang dalanging nawa'y marinig.
Ngayon at sa paglipas ng panahon.
Pangalan mo ang sambit ng puso sa bawat alon.

In my headphones
’My favourite faded fantasy’
By Damien Rice plays—
Spare souls— one or two broken hearts
and Me, once again,
Waiting for a bus,
to take us away.
Flickering lights,
And 2 am’s old friend,
Cold.. so cold.
In between a heavy silence,
And pity stares,
I can’t help but compare,
Peacefully silent, you
warm and sound asleep
In your room,
A 5-min walk,
right around the corner.

I miss you,
I miss your good morning texts,
Your messages lighting up my phone,
The special ringtone I had for you,
Calling you mpenzi -
Because that’s what you are,
My darling.

I miss your voice,
Your laughter,
The warmth in your words.
I miss how we spoke of everything,
How we made each other feel alive.

I miss your kind heart, beautiful soul and spirit.
I miss your wild ambitions,
Your endless *** of kindness,
Your relentless singing of love ballads after your favourite drink,
And your desire to truly be a great person.

I miss Kivuli’s sweetest face,
The comfort you both brought me
Whenever I was lost in sadness.
I miss your smooth, dark skin,
Your handsome face,
Your gorgeous body in all its glory,
Your kindness and gentleness.
Your laughter.

I miss how natural we were together -
Effortlessly almost.
Perhaps that’s what went wrong,
Was it too easy, and is life not?

I miss the hope we shared,
The late-night conversations,
And the way your deep voice
Would echo through my heart.
What happens now?
I don’t know.
But I miss you with every fibre of my being.
I haven’t stopped loving you -
And I don’t know if I ever will.
Come back to me, mpenzi.
Come back to us.

I drift, a river restless, wide,
Carved by time, yet pulled inside.
Bound to banks that held me tight,
Yet drawn beyond their dwindling sight.

The wind hums secrets to my skin,
A song of loss, a song of kin.
The waves that call, the stars that guide,
Whisper change—yet fear resides.

I crash, I twist, I rise, I fall,
A roaring flood, a whispered call.
Melancholy pools in me,
But so does fire, wild and free.

The ocean waits with open hands,
Unmeasured depths, untrodden sands.
Am I dissolving? Am I whole?
Or just becoming something more—

A sky, a storm, a silver crest,
The river vast within my chest.
No longer lost, not yet complete,
I am the flow, I am the deep.

I lit my candles all alone,
on a night that should have been my own.
The tiny flame flickered and died,
I whispered my wishes, but none replied.

He, as always, lay asleep,
while I stood silent, tired, bleak.
I washed the dishes, cleaned the floor,
he “saved his energy” once more.

I asked, I pleaded, time and again,
but silence met me now as then.
I carried weight that no one should,
believing strength meant all I could.

And him? He sighs, he hides away,
a child in mind, a man in sway.
And me? I cook, I clean, I run,
but who sees me when the day is done?

Loneliness lingers, heavy, cold,
a story quiet, left untold.
But maybe soon, when night appears,
I’ll light a flame for me, not tears.

Is the rain falling where you are?
Can you see the bright full moon?
How far are you from me?
Miles and miles... too many to count.
Can you smell the salty sea?
Can you feel the cool night air?
Do you feel this heavy sadness,
when the rain won’t stop, like I do?
Nisan 2024|

The autumn tree didn’t betray us,
the grass still grows greener.
Fireflies glisten in the same spot,
the one that was once ours.

But I’ve seen them digging,
carving the earth to build—
a tower, a monument, a future
where our past once stood.

They are changing this place,
shaping it into something new.
And though the fireflies still return,
though the autumn tree stands still-
haven’t we changed too?