There was a time when we used to walk the streets together. Hand in hand I held you like my purse. Side by side like a holster. Babe, oh, those times when we was together. Lovers. I used to cling to you like a sticker. The ones we walk past on the street lamps of Kampala, Uganda.
Now I see you on the city streets walking with another girl. On the pavements we treaded. I feel like calling out your name but I am afraid to disrupt your romantic stroll.
You & her, hand in hand, like how you used to hold mine now you hold hers while retracing our lanes like we used to, me & you. Now it’s you & her. And I remember the shops we used to go to. The restaurants we ate & dined from. Are you taking her there now? Seating her in the chair I used to? The corner I liked? The same table jokes? Fuck this small city & the familiar streets. Its habits and its traits.
I wanted to call out your name but at that moment, the traffic lights turned green as I saw my lover turning a corner with another woman.