Your skin tone seems lighter,
But who am I to question..
Is it the city or the knowledge,
That now burns within you,
That changes the shade of your eyelids?
The Achien’g I recall,
Her walk was respectful, and modest,
Bowed to elders as they passed along,
Now you sway your hips and ample buttocks,
Along the roads and village corridors.
Then, your dresses hugged your ankles,
But now, the ankles can’t hide from the cold,
Your soft African thighs, flawless,
Displayed for anyone with eyes,
I am tempted to caress, but how many hands have?
It tears me from within,
That my name you can’t even recall,
Four years I have waited,
Preserved myself for you,
I even said no to Wanjiku,
Even after she promised me land in Murang’a…
Do you recall our meeting site by the lake?
I can bet that too has escaped your mind,
For now you only meet in…
What are they called?
Ooh FLASHY restaurants and movie theaters.
With a university degree, do I even have a chance?
I only know the Dusty market of Awendo,
And the richest sites in the lake,
I bet that the smell of omena now irritates your manicured nose..
Unlucky me, i have just but a class four report book,
Can I even dream of caressing your lovely breasts?
Or whispering words of endearment that brought forth your lovely dimples?
Or holding your hand as i did before you left?
For I am just a village boy,
Or a hopeless romantic as you learned people refer to my kind…