SO THAT I DON’T LOVE THEM MUCH THIS TIME
Was love even for me?
I think not;
For the many times I’ve loved,I’ve also parted,
Loving that which was never really going to stay,
I’ve been taught to die alive,
I need not love anymore.
If by loving not I do myself a favor,
Then it be,
But man is man,
And I am man,I want death again.
I want to feel alive,to be touched
I quite know the sensation that touchment* comes with
So,someone’s daughter,don’t let me die again,come touch me.
Tell my sister to tell her friend’s sister to touch me,
Or my heart,for that matter-
Or tell my mother to tell her friend to tell her daughter to come touching me,
For I know what comes with love,
But I also know what love brings along.
Give me my pen,
I want to write to them to come touch me,
So that I be alive again,
So that I don’t love them much this time.
Uncle D
Duncan Kiplimo
