» William B.

i remember our simple love.
holding each other at night.
Tight.
like children afraid of summer thunder.
i would cling toyou like the last straw in quicksand.
And your loving hands would press me genly,
as if i were a delicate flower,
petals shyly folding.
i wish for those times.
when it was enough to watch t.v. and laugh at the world.
when our silence meant only warm contentment.
when i only knew a tear during moments of
explosive
releasing
Joy.
i wish i had not outgrown you.
i wish i could turn back and run into your arms.
i wish, at least, that i had not broken your spirit,
when i relaxed my grip.
but i am not the same girl you loved.
nor am i the lady who left you.
finally,
i have become a woman.

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About the Author

Tinu

My name is Love refers to the poetic expression of my Yoruba name. Literally it's closer to "I loved her since she was in my belly" or less crudely "I loved her since she was created". Poetic translation, "loved since conception." Which is fitting because when I love, that's how I love. This blog is a personal recounting of all the things I love, people past and present, places, things, hobbies, life.

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