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Floccinaucinihilipilific

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I could hardly believe my luck
when I stumbled upon you.
I felt like I had found the one.
The gods must have been crazy.
You were,
the last thing I thought about
before bed, and
the first thing when I woke.
Then, suddenly, you chose,
to get me onto an emotional rollercoaster,
toyed with my emotions,
laughed at my expressions,
and crushed my feelings.

I once had a dream, never shared,
that we’d be in a matatu bay,
holding both your hands,
reciting a poem I wrote.
Love was possible
but it was made impossible
by the sole Ngong Road bound matatu.
Eight “great pieces” later,
and I still haven’t held
at least a hand.
Never before have I been sure,
than now, that they were worthless.
They never appealed,
for first, to the brain,
and, preferably, to the heart.

You’ve pulled out my heart
and right in my face,
crushed it,
in the palms of your hands.
It’s pieces are now so small
that they can pass thorough
the eye of a needle,
are broken and will need screws.

Clearly, I was not thinking
when I misunderstood
your leading me on,
and throwing me off a cliff,
as your responses
to my advances towards you.
Certainly, I was quite stupid
to renew opportunities
of moulding (y)our potential,
dreaming of better days,
and extending invitations.

Little birdie,
it’s unfortunate
you were never anything
more than a faint blip on my radar,
and are now out of my orbit.
Feel free to fly,
as much as you want,
and have always done.
Shortlived were moments spent,
forgotten will be memories made.
I was always delighted,
and overly glad
that they were shared.
I will never forget it.
What an experience!

If the world ends today,
the only precious possessions
I’ll, by far, have had,
would be stern sheets
I never discarded
not because they bear lies
like; “darling” and I love you”
but that the same glide
in your beautiful naive glyphs.

I believe they were right
when they warned;
“Be careful not to fall in love.
They are attractive but treacherous.”
Go on, play hard to get.
Soon, I will be hard to find.
You could have been the one
but you are not that profound.

The whole tragedy,
of choosing you,
risking love,
risking emotion,
risking sensuality,
and losing it all
does not matter.
Exercising my choice
in who I love(d) was major.
A major shame.
Floccinaucinihilipilification!

…………………………………………….
Alexander Twinokwesiga.
Friday, March 28, 2014.
Ongata Rongai, Kajiado.

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