Maria
I give her my umbrella, as raindrops
drum my back.
I persevere the weight of books,
as she picks them from the library shelves.
I call her in the middle of the night,
just to hear her voice.
She calls me "friend",
I call her "dear". I wish she would
know that she's the only girl
I call "dear".
I wish she could be keen in listening
to the way my heart calls out her name;
keen in seeing and feeling the way I hold
her hand as we jump into a train.
I pray that one day her lips will meet mine....
Copyright © Teddy Kimathi | Year Posted 2016
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