I get home. Home is the place where I can be alone. And nothing happens.
I had lunch in Karen (southwest of the Nairobi centre).
A vegetarian dish, spicy and disgusting.
A friend said love. I said "hehe". I said also "that dish is giving me butterflies in my stomach."
Love?- he smiled.
Indigestion- I answered.
Then I went to the public toilet- near the KCB bank- and I tried not to throw up.
Just because I wanted to feel.
To feel something beyond you.
Then I get into the car.
And I felt asleep, meanwhile he stroked my hair,
but I couldn't feel either.
I get home. And I went to work.
And I took some medicines for these pains in my (heart) stomach.
And then realized that, (hypothesised that), I forgot your taste.
Because home is the place where there is the acknowledgment of loneliness.
And is not bad. It is just real.
I felt released and blue.
And so tired.
Just yearning to touch you
in slow motion
to remember that
you are here.