Guest posts, Love

She Doesn’t Like Nyama Choma.

You know the tingly feeling you get when you love someone? I hear it’s actually common sense leaving someone’s body because sometimes being in love means losing your mind.

I know you’re probably thinking that I am just some love-sick fool but honestly tell me what would you do if you saw the most beautiful flower?

I mean even if you aren’t a fan of flowers,but you just saw this particular flower that took your breath away; that even a mere glance doesn’t suffice because it entices you to get closer. What would you do? Pick the flower or leave it there so that somebody else can see it too??

Being totally candid, it’s not that often that I find myself eager to write about love. In fact, every time I try to write about love, my hands cramp just to show me how painful love can be.

Sometimes my pencils break just to prove to me that every now and then, love takes a little more work than planned. They say that ‘love is blind’, so I’d write all my poems in Braille.

I have this envelope… it’s full of all the butterflies I felt the first time you smiled in my direction and whispered I love you. At that moment in time it felt like I could tie your arms to a daydream and then auction you off to my fondest memories. I didn’t wanna let you go.

If I was to wake up tomorrow morning and decide that I was gonna write about love, my first poem- it would be about you. About how I love you the same way I learned how to use roller skates: scared, but reckless, with no elbow pads, so my scars can tell the story of how I fell for you.

You see, I’ve written a million poems hoping that somehow maybe some way, you’ll jump out of the page and be closer to me.

I’d write about how you have the audacity to be beautiful even on days when everything around you is ugly.I’d write about your eyelashes and how they are like violin strings that play symphonies every time you blink.

If I was a love poet, I’d write about how I melt in front of you like an ice sculpture every time I hear the vibration in your voice and whenever I see your name on the caller ID, my heart plays hopscotch inside of my chest.

If you came in a bottle, I would drink you until my vision is blurry and I can not drive home. If you were a book, I would memorize your table of contents. I would read her cover to cover hoping to find typos just so we can both have something to work on.

Because aren’t we all unfinished? Don’t we all need editing?
Aren’t we all waiting to be read by someone praying that will tell us that we make sense? She doesn’t always make sense. But her imperfections are the things I love about her the most.

Her eyes are the only Christmas lights that deserve to be seen all year long. She makes me weak in my knees that I can hardly speak and before she sleeps it’s like she wraps herself in my memories and she sets the needs of my soul with the melodies of her voice.

She was the first girl to make my palms moist just by walking next to her. I bet if you dusted my heart for fingerprints you’d only find yours.I am not much of a love poet but for you I wanted to write a love poem so sweet that the ink in the paper attracts honeybees.

Her beauty consumes me and over and over again I wouldn’t mind telling you that you are beautiful. When you first wake up, when you’ve just been crying, when you don’t wanna hear me or even when you don’t believe it – ‘’you’re beautiful.’’ When you need to hear it most – You are beautiful!

The fact that she doesn’t like nyama choma still amazes me till date. I guess the stars aligned me to someone special. I see her somewhere in my smile; hear her voice in my laughter and smelt my cologne in her thighs.

I want to be your ex-boyfriend’s stunt man and do everything he never had the courage to do. I just don’t wanna lose you! To the girl who doesn’t like nyama choma – You have champagne in your walk and I get drunk in your footsteps!


~ Tianta ♥

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