I want him to want me until it drives him to his knees.
I want him to want to fuck me till it’s all he thinks about, almost like his brain is not capable of forming any other thought.
I want him to want me till my presence unsettles him… Like Ouleymatou’s cry in Scarlet Song, “unsettle him, Mabo Dialli!” That remains my cry since the day I met him.
I want him turned all the way on by me, like the AC in this Nairobi heat!
I want his lips on my lips, my lips…
I want it to feel like lava from two different volcanoes, converging.
I want his hands on mine to be like worship, almost.
I want him to feel like he’s flying when he finally gets to be with me.
I want him to hear the birds sing when I stand naked before him.
I want nothing in this world to exist — except him, me, and our unbridled desire for each other.
