Thursday, 6 July 2017
"NISAMEHE" - "FORGIVE ME"
Gone are the days that you'd rest your head on my chest and smell the scent of my ripe goosebumps, those days that I would lose count of the strands of hair on your head, and I'd spend the rest of my Sunday afternoons counting and recounting those strands.
Gone are the days when, after work, you'd take off your suit, sit on my laps and whisper, with a soft giggle, deep into my ear canal, 'Interview me honey... Let me show you my credentials'.
Those days when rain was the background noise as you sank your teeth deep into my skin, and I would groan softly from the itchiness of your sweet poison from your fangs, grabbing a fistful of the sheets and sinking you deep into my chest. Those days that I would run from the storm into your mushroom, and still, they'd be much room left for our two hearts, beating with the same symphony, and love floods.
I can't truly explain the hole you left in me. It's as big as the skies. It's big, enormous and with no ends. It's blue and sometimes dark, and cracks with thunder. I mean, you are the lost button on my poshy tuxedo. None can ever take your place. You are the mineral water I initially bought with the drinking bottle, refilling with tap water doesn't restore the same feeling. None can ever replace you.
Darling, I'd make myself some sandwitch, but I can't. I am missing one piece, one side, of the bread. You. Say you are coming back, that I'd mop the house, wipe the panes and fix the fan. Please, 'niambie unarudi', that I'd spread the bed and place a rose on the empty vase on our dining table.
The last time we spoke on the phone, I heard your heart crushing and your soul dying. Forgive me honey. Let me plant back and water the young rose plant that I once stupidly uprooted. 'Nisamehe'. Come back darling. Give me a chance to fix my own wrongs, because, you forgiving me prevents me from burning in hell, you coming back prevents me from dying and you remaining by my side gives me life!
"Nisamehe - Forgive Me"
Gone are the days that you'd rest your head on my chest and smell the scent of my ripe goosebumps, those days that I would lose count o...
I will take you to the Atlantic coast in, Virginia, Will you be my 'Puella' my sweet, sweet Latina? Ride on the sand in a cherry...
If i were to choose, my life or your love, irrefutably, your love, if love fades, life blues! Webbed in my poetry, love and ink- run v...
How did we end up here? How did we abandon the good and chose to abide by the wrong? Where are the days when older women portrayed motherly...