I SAW HIM

I saw him….playing silly games,
and i was six.
Sometimes he wanted to play father,
when i was mother.
Or hold the rope,
and let me skip.
Other times he sat with others,
and made fun of me.
I cried and hid behind curtains,
and hems of mother’s skirts,
Because my emotions,
too young to comprehend.
Was he friend or fiend?

I saw him again.
And i was thirteen,
Almost a woman.
And it was showing.
When the tiny mounds appeared,
and my chest began to hurt.
He teased me again.
Yet he too had bumps on his face,
and a croak for a voice.

We parted ways four more years.
I was away where they wore matching clothes.
And slept in metal squeaking beds.
And he never appeared there.
I never thought of him.
Only saw him in books.
And read about the things he could do.
Like make babies grow in my tummy,
love me like his only,
yet hurt me like his enemy.

Then one day he held me in his arms.
When the four years were gone.
And i was in another institution.
Gently like the last raw egg, then squeezed harder.
Till i could take it no more.
Left me raw.
And i freed myself from his hold.

Now i am done with institutions.
I wake up in the morning,
jewelled and made up….adorned.
And leave to make money….my own.
He still comes and goes.
Squeezes me a little more till i cringe.
And i fear he might break me.
There are no more tears to shed here.
I am a woman…..grown.
No institutions.
No hem of mother’s skirts.
So before i break gradually,
in his arms. Fiercely.
Before my heart slams shut.
I will let him go along.

©Ado Yiembo.

Copy and pass ”I SAW HIMaround to your hearts content but always post my copyright notice above correctly both as courtesy and as a legal necessity to protect any writer. Thank

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I MISS HIM

I miss him,

When he wasn’t too exhausted after work,

Remembered that these lips were for him,

Held me as i slept,

and i lay upon his chest,

Because he didn’t smell of sweat,

Having let the day his strength exhaust.

 

I miss him,

Without a single care,

Smiles with none to compare,

When we could talk till dawn,

Fuss and laugh about nothing.

 

I miss him,

No worries, no woes,

no medical bills and electricity receipts,

No landlord at the gates,

No insatiable people called family or  school fees to pay.

 

I miss him,

Noisy Friday evenings,

Crazy Saturday afternoons,

and quiet hungover Sundays.

When we drank all night and forgot to give thanks,

Till our fingers trembled.

and intoxicated bodies rejected nutrition.

I miss him,

Now on his forehead are furrows,

For he constantly worries,

Thinks about work and bills,

His fingers still tremble,

Not after a night of fun or passion,

But because they need,

A burning stick to calm his nerves.

 

Now he is angry,

No longer talks and laughs about nothing,

We fuss,fight about everything,

Now he is no longer ticklish, irritable,

His complements rare as his smile.

 

Now i wonder if he still thinks i am beautiful,

Or my place has been taken by offspring,

I wonder if he still stares when i walk away and sway my hips,

If he still thinks my breasts move in rhythm with my stride,

If my smile still makes him stare

and he tells friend and foe that i am his.

 

Now i wonder if he watches me sleep,

or sees me in his dreams,

I wonder if he looks forward to coming home,

So he can see me,

Feel my moist lips,

Caress my naked breasts,

Bask in the warmth of my thighs,

Or sighs when the clock strikes five,

and only comes home so he can rest.

I miss him.

©Ado Yiembo.

Copy and pass ”I MISS HIMaround to your hearts content but always post my copyright notice above correctly both as courtesy and as a legal necessity to protect any writer. Thank you.