I had always heard of desperadoes
Seen them in movies now here he was a real desperado
But without the criminal intonation
He seemed to have been sculpted out of the rarest of ochre
clay
Patiently molded into this perfect man
No one is perfect, I know but he was as close to perfect as
perfect is
He seemed to smile so effortlessly, it was like a mirage of
some sort
I knew I was dreaming yet I was not
It felt like sitting on a cliff or at the highest point of
Uhuru Park
Watching as night transforms into morning
The split second where darkness splits into two giving way
To the burnt orange spectrum of light opening up a new mist
of freshness
How was I supposed to leave him looking like that?
I love the veins on a man’s arms
Showing he is a protector and he can fight for his woman
His seemed to be endless as they crawled underneath his
T-Shirt
I knew each vein had a story to tell
A story that could be written into a thousand
autobiographies
Like rivers that start from a source
Knowing there is no place that far where they cannot reach
My eyes were not blinking
My mind frozen in attention
For the rest of my days I knew my heart could not wait
anymore
I even wrote a poem in that moment as my eyes stayed glued
on him
In my boudoir at night I sat up on my bed still thinking of
him
Then I took my guitar and started to play
1 am, 2 am…Sleep has betrayed me and left my expectant eyes
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