I want to love you properly. Like it is my last time. Your last time. Anyways, it is our last time. Never to see us again, our last wish. Loving someone else, our worst wish. Never to make plans with you again, our lost wish. Never falling in love again with us, our feared wish…so I want to make this be our best time. Sadly, our last time.
I want to hold you proper. Talk to you proper. I want to laugh with you again. Hear that loud chuckle one last time. I loved how you used to look at me deeply. Your eyes piercing into my soul sharply. I felt them. They had love written all over them & I fearfully loved it.
I want to make love to you proper. Break you down and build you up again. With sweat, emotions, and ecstasy, girl, you loved that intimacy, because boy oh boy I sure did it better. I held your hand better on them walks. The walks up the hill. Or the romance on the boda. Weaving through traffic like them roads we owned. The dancing in the room. My Miss Uganda. I made your mind calmer and listened to your dreams clearer. The tears in your eyes I made them disappear faster and on my chest, you laid better. Sweet peace.
But now you are gone. Regrettable tears for the moves we didn’t make. Chess pieces. Like the wind you gonna blow away and fat chance, I’ll never see you again…unless if the world pulls a sneaky one on us…otherwise, this seems like it’s our last time. Wish I could spend it with you because I am sure you will love it. This one last time, the Kindle to the Kitty.