here is the thing.
they make beautiful people in kenya.
i have a crush on every kenyan i come across, until i meet another kenyan and shift focus.
it is standard procedure and i’m used to it.
but damn…this one kenyan is made from something else because when on that day i sniffed a sweat, i went bananas insane, i gasped and broke a big
sweat to try and put out the sweet fire with it.
what is it with this very one?
skin wonderfully dark as wet clay remains in my dirtiest thoughts and
lips black from cigarettes make me yell blasphemy –
this one kenyan remains
remains
remains
damn remains my grand kenyan.
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