We find ourselves in spaces,
unhinged or so we say, faces
unmoved or so we say, traces
unknown or so we say, and in these spaces
We sway, one step becomes two and then a mile stands between us.
We find ourselves in spaces, unhinged, unmoved, and unknown.
Sparkle.
I went to the market,
Not that kind of market…the one where everyone is happy and looks good enough to be carried home.
So, I looked at this shelf and saw you,
The jaw of a god, a mortal sculpted into immortality,
Skin glowing like the dark night sky, embers of those who came before you,
So, I stood and took you in.
You could be my rock,
I could wander in the maze that’s your eyes…cocoa rich, vanilla true…
So, I stood and took you in,
You could be the one.
You know…the one among many who could take my heart, break it, and walk all over it.
You saw me looking,
Long after everyone else had left,
So, you stopped taking in their praise, their likes, their comments…you stopped and for that second, you knew you could take me.
See…I let you.
I was standing waiting for you to take me.
And so you did…you truly did,
Your voice, deep, still…calm on the surface, unsettled beneath it.
You took me long after I had decided that you would take me.
So, Son of Man,
Do not shout praises of your prowess to the world,
Do not scamper for likes, retweets, comments and be sliding in the DMs knowing you’re good.
Just like I gave myself to you, I can slip away.
Oh, and wouldn’t that be a treat if only you could take me.
Whole as you may be, you serve me with slices of you,
Sweet one moment, uncertain the next.
Kind and attentive, withdrawn the next.
A bit like a slice of bread, buttered only on one side.
The sun will shine Child.
you who thought you ruled the world,
See how she goes on, un-bothered by your woes.
She thrives, brighter than yesterday,
Oh Child, don’t you see it…you who came into this space after her,
Smile, laugh, love and for each breath give thanks…
She shines on everyone, doesn’t she?
Well, how is then that you thought you could keep her to yourself?
My Love is like a series,
He intrigues at first glance, draws you in and keeps you guessing.
My Love is like a series,
As you watch him, so does the world,
Sometimes he is true, sometimes he is but what you desire him to be,
But rarely is he what he wishes to be for fear of losing an audience.
My Love is like a series,
He has a following as much as those who hate on him.
My Love is like a series,
As you begin season one, someone has had five seasons of him, and some are enjoying re-runs.
My Love is like a series,
He is what you perceive him to be depending on the time, day, place and mood you’re in.
Sometimes with a glass of wine, he’s mellow.
Sometimes with popcorn, he keeps you so glued that you forget your friends’ warnings.
Sometimes as you do the dishes, you yell ‘liar! he ain’t good for you,’ because you know the script so well and those spoilers online already told you he’s cheating.
My Love is like a series,
Just like any other production, you can choose to forget about him, to walk away, love yourself and in so doing- find that you were the Producer all along.
Find me in the silence, he says.
Find me in the place where the noise from the world comes to a hush, or a whisper, where it feels like the only truth you’d find is the one that is.
“What if I don’t want to find you?” I ask and he smiles.
“I knew you would ask that, you question everything Dee, and it is great if only you would stop to listen to answers you receive. Find me Dee.”
I shake my head and continue writing the dialogue I was working on. It’s the next book I hope to publish and everything about the lead character evades me. He knows I’m in my world and so he walks away.
I know how many steps he takes to the door before he stops because I count when he’s not listening. How odd it is that he asks of me what he knows I would not provide.
Apples.
I suddenly want to eat three apples- something red and crunchy and healthy…and what’s in my house is an endless supply of tea bags, sugar, water and two oranges.
He calls me, “Dee…” and I look up at him and he says “stay safe!” I nod and smile and tell him “you too.” What hurts is knowing he will drown himself in another bottle of whisky thinking he can have and destroy what he has at will.
He says my love is like thunder, so loud it cannot be ignored.
Sometimes when I am not looking, he would make notes, scribble thoughts that came to him about me,
So, when I call, he knows that there is something…he does not need to ask,
“Do you know what bothers me about you Dee…it’s just that you are too good and too slippery for anyone. You run before anyone can think of catching you, like the wind, no, like the unknown…when will you hold still for love?”
“Did you read the book I sent you?” I ask.
He laughs. He knows me and yet I refuse to accept this truth.
“What are friends for?”
“So, what do you think?” I ask in between sips of my third cup of coffee. It’s too hot inside this house but I’d rather sweat and pace up and down than let the mosquitoes in.
“Love…it’s like giving someone white flowers when you know you want to present them with a rose, a single red rose and the truth between those two gestures is in the actions that prompted you to present them with flowers in the first place.”
“An apology…”
“No, when you know you cannot catch the wind and you’ve tried all your life, what comes next is more painful than an apology Dee…it’s surrender.”
I heard you in a song, and just like that,
my words didn’t matter,
How is it that every chord knew so much about us?
I like it when you say “let’s talk.”
I like the sound of the words rolling around your tongue, an invitation to explore the things we want to keep hidden, and that in itself makes me want to laugh.
Not at you, with you Stardust…how did we get here?
How is it that the one person who preferred to watch National Geographic whilst burning his lungs would want to talk?
I know it’s rough, I just blurted it out and you shake your head and smile.
You have been smiling more lately.
I like it when you smile, because it means a light’s shining within you.
I wonder, Stardust, why is it that when we talk…we do so in the spaces between the silence of our fears?
Come to me, unlike any other thought,
Surprise me, like an after-thought,
Come to me, like a spice,
Paprika, Cayenne Pepper, Tumeric, Cummin, Cardamom, Ginger…
Come to me in a way that leaves not just a mark, not just a taste,
But an after-taste…so take your time,
Love yourself
Learn and unlearn yourself…and then…come to me!
nilichoandika 