Written by Karen Muthoni
I saw you. You were there with me, not her.
Me.
We danced naked,
And cooked Chinese,
And kissed French.
Heard you call it cliché now.
I could hear you. Your voice; that raspy delicate tone that hushed me.
Me.
We loved each other’s quirks.
You liked that I loved guitar.
You played with my hair like those frets.
Oh darling,
Now I weep. I don’t know if it’s for who I was before you, or after.
You.
You’re still my dream.
Yes, I watch your eyes light up in my thoughts like constellations.
Your poise, swagger and your trail linger like my childhood dreams.
You’re like gardens of lavender, my sillage of healing.
I am so spoiled I could chuckle for centuries at the mention of your name.
You were my first, probably will be my last. It is indelible in me.
Me.
You broke me.
You simplified me.
You saw me.
You defeated me.
You broke my mighty walls by every bit of touch.
You left me like she was the dream I thought I was.
Her.
I saw her.
Met her, even.
She mirrored me those eons ago before I unmasked you.
