“I miss you sometimes… maybe more maybe less”
You cannot leave, I utter, I guess that’s what happens when a village dwarf meets a socialite and the inexplicable happens; they fall erroneously in love. I swear ill stop stealing looks at other girls, I didn’t know I had stolen your heart. The peaceful melodious feeling I get when I sit by a river and envision my life and yours coming together to found a dash of love, a feeling of never letting go, sometimes more… maybe less.
The way she lies on my shoulder while we sleep, she snores too, softly to my ears, but loud as the Vikings of Val halla, the way she keeps twisting and turning, hitting my head against hers, just a flash of pain maybe more… maybe less. She says she feels safe. I don’t know why but her words seem softly spoken, like silk soft to the touch.
A tinge of music, a sip of reminiscing because well am a sucker for holding her… hand sometimes more. For kissing her lips… sometimes less. I can’t quite shake the feeling that I’m stupid at times, with my goofy strides and her mousy giggles and when I fall, ha-ha it’s a blunder. Big men don’t fall she says… but am big only in her eyes. A big dream, a vision maybe. I sometimes feel were more… maybe less.
She’s all I have, all I need sometimes, I don’t have the money to spoil her maybe, maybe not but I’m still indebted to her heart. It’s a pleasure, a danger when she laughs, and smiles when I make typos, shudders when my Muranga accent gets too much, it’s like tears of the sun. A tear of love for a day, am crying in love maybe more… maybe less.
Words: Francis The Lone Puppeteer
Featured Image: Francis Muoria and Carol Risper Wanja
Taken by : Dennis Peters
These words will align to these images and they will found a dash of mystery and rhythm to a brave new world.