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Slap me,
Kick me.
Your touch,
I need it so much
In any form or hutch
Hold me,
Feel me.
Your touch
will leave me breathless
helplessly wishing it endless
Kick me,
Hug me.
Your touch
I am yearning for your hands and fingers
And their sensations on me that lingers
touch so powerful, it will turn my winters
into sweet, beautiful, warm summers.
nothing accentuates,
exaggerates and punctuates,
your curvaceous beauty,
and that humongous booty
like that figure-hugging blue dress.
this I must address
and I confess,
that it leaves me delirious,
hypnotized by the mysterious,
marbles it hides underneath so elegantly,
marvels that send stimulating sensual images,
…naughty images! that set my mhogo on fire.
now on you, am stuck like glue,
am now obsessed with blue,
possessed by you,
and wholly yours.
suddenly a knock,
with soothing intentions
snatches my attention,
from the movies’ detention
to you, standing at my door
deep in the night, i think it was four
breath-taking in your baggy sweat-pant
breathlessly to my feet, erect i rise
ready to devour you to sunrise
so i pull you to me sensually
until am one with you sensuously
so close, i heard the music in your heart
and remembered that you are an art
looking at me, breaking me apart
into parts lost in your beautiful eyes
and the warmth of your faerie touch
stupefied and mightily aroused
i kiss your wet lips, and you taste like heaven
i caress your neck, and am all seven risen
clothes stealthily fall like they harm
but the sounds of the morning alarm
rudely kills our wild night
Am leaving,
my pains and wounds
the way Adam of Eden,
left the garden and its goods,
into the hostile woods,
of this world
older,
unmoved by cute cats,
calmly open to the idea,
that certainty, only exists,
in the sureness of death,
dusks, dawns, meals, love,
are all but ambivalences,
flimsy acquaintances.
now hassling,
and constantly hustling,
to mend my souls’ light
snatched by the angry night
of this world where,
(...)
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Last night I had a dream
Vivid and as gentle as cream
A visit from the woman on the moon
I think birds call her Princess Moone
Her light transforms nights
From eerie black blank canvases
To theatres worth dates and dances
Princess Moone took my dreamy hands
For a moonlit walk through our lands
From the mesmerizing Longonot crater
In the rift valley, the foot sole of the creator
To the breathtaking might of Mount Kenya
And in recognition of the princess highness
The Tsavo lions roared with greatness
And the elephants trumpeted with grandness
In adorations of the princess
The woman on the moon.
