The fairy tale, that doing good shall mean you get the same needs to be totally wiped off.
You might not even sleep better.
But you must be who you are.
My body called you this morning, I woke to a room full of breathe and I swear, I tasted your scent in my mouth. My eyes were blurred by the gifts of your form And my cheeks, fully stretched. You know how I can't draw a cup, right? My fingers had written in hieroglyphs Each of my fantasies all over the sheet and each period was you. You once called me a performer, And all I heard was the only audience I needed. Last month I didn't dial your number once And I haven't read any Art of war that prepared me for that. I don't smile each morning lately and my demons are seated on each face I meet, But your smile in my memories cleanses me enough to still catch some sleep I had a difficult night at the bar yesternight. But the 5 minutes I spent On the spot you once placed your beer And with entitlement you inquired 'Why don't I love you anymore?' Washed it all away. I don't remember my deeply thought through well structured answer, But I ...
ok...not so dead over here. One of the most popular bloggers in the Kenyan lesbian scene just wrote a blog on the Lesbian Bed Death Syndrome which has all self respecting lesbian minds sharing their opinion. Most of them agitated by the idea that was put across by Pepper Schwartz in her 1983 book American couples, which makes me wonder why we are getting to this discussion now but I shall put a pin on that. The idea is that lesbian couples in committed relationships have less sex than any other form of couples, may it be homo or hereto. This as I have read, is insulting to our young vibrant Nairobi lesbians who have been hit with this revelation. My male counterparts from the office just tweet the link too scared to comment honestly for fear of the fury of a group of women scorned. So this is my way of looking at it that I think some of you may share. First I shall ignore the discussion on who is a lesbian and who is not and jump to the commitment part of ...
A friend on Facebook posts a message reading ‘my sexuality is not a political statement.’ And within minutes am deep in thought over the author’s rational and it leads me to the baby boom. Babies, babies and babies. How the hell did I not see this coming why did I not expect the age increment to affect how we live? Lemme not digress. Everywhere I turn mummy mushy words hit me or a photo of a sweet cuddly being in the arms of a lesbian or even lesbian couples to make it best. You have to be insane to consider a lesbian with a baby anything but breath-taking beautiful. There is something about the newly acquired sexiness of the responsibilities parenting brings. A stud posts on how happy her partner just made her on the day of delivery of their son and it is now smack on my face. SHIT JUST GOT REAL!!! Yaani, an actual lesbian couple I have shared a drink with in this city will actually do it. As in kids and a family dog? As in have a middle-finger-to-the-world happy fa...
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