Dear You
Dear You,
I scrolled past your love texts and smiled at my responses. Lately, it’s been no real answer. I will normally talk about how the truth is more experienced than said. But in my experience, you have a bad memory.
Some risks were unnecessary. (We called it strength when it served you). I skip on talks about romance because with you they mean nothing. If my sensual passions keep you puzzled, accept my apologies—spontaneity is one of my best features.
I am your infatuation in my prime. And everything less in my down times. I understand how a downhill me looks—ugly and all. Perhaps, it’s the same reason you best avoid love when I look like that.
And you think I might loathe you for it.
But no, I don’t. I do understand that your love is based on convenience. But this makes almost all who publicly declare how they want to be loved.
I love that I lived through you.
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I made tough decisions about life quite hastily. It is a habit I have had to consistently unlearn. And lessons inspire me. It is why I never hate the players— the game is always harder for beginners. I learn. (Another fine quality of mine).
I realize that I am no more the person you once met: I am not trying to be perfect for anyone. And I am subdued by my own desires. Really, this way, my regrets—if there be any—shall be beautiful.
As my desires are, I suppose I might just well be the same. Living the simple life I have always preferred:
In noiseless spaces in Eastern Nigeria. And in Lagos. And in Central Europe and in the Carribean.
Reading a book beside naked tan skinned women who are fascinated by my discreet explorations and physical assertiveness.
And being with men, as attractive as I am—with Cigarellas and Cinderellas.
To die young is what I live for — and I will not explain.
And if you ever see me again, I will not help you against whatever you feel. Like how you’re intrigued by my every touch. Like your heavy sweats and loud screams while you are faced down, as I bring heaven to your room.
To die young is what I live for — and I will not explain.
