The heart betrays the mind by thinking for itself.

You describe her as an Eden. This rare, unknowable place. Distant.And you tell me to wear her skin but I refuse.I shift in my seat. Distant.What is it about the men that go looking for old lovers in new women. And why is it that they always want you to touch them like she touched them. Wear her head like a show piece. Use her words as lipstick.

I do not want to touch your heart with dirty hands because you are a prayer. A thing I asked the heavens for. My light that guides the way. And I do not know how else to tell you that I love you but to listen when you speak. Feel your pain when you are hurting. Tell you I miss you when you are not with me.

Lately, everything in my universe has made it hard to forget. I look at this new man sure he is everything I once wanted. But body does not feel the same when it is not my third or fourth hand holding it.The sweetness of an apple is not the sweetness of a grape.There is no tingle when he says name.No spark when he touches skin.We are not twins, Ejima.He is not you and I am not him.

Somewhere between pride and heart lies the ego. The heart says I love you for what I can do for you. The ego says I love you for what you can do for me.

My love says I am not a fool but I will play dumb for you. He tells me sweet nothings and calls only on the weekends. On Mondays I find our love in a bottle. On Tuesdays it clouds a Joint. He texts to confirm plans.Tells me to shave downstairs for next time.And I listen. Because I am young. Naïve.A little bit desperate and kind of hungry.There is this way he almost loves me.It's never enough but I always stay.

Obi’m, I sometimes worry that you may die before I do or abandon me because I am too much woman to handle and you are not enough man to handle me. So last night, while you slept I gathered myself back into my body. Scraped the remnants of my heart off your sleeve. And withdrew my feelings of deep affection from you.

The issue with seeing a man for what he could be is that you never fully accept him for what he now is.

Another past midnight where we have argued until almost dawn. These days we don’t count on the sun to fix our quarrels anymore, None of Us is always Wrong. In this fighting field of loveNkem, you are the chaos at my feet. You are the thing I want most to put back together, also the thing that is killing me. The problem?I think of you at 8:00 AM.You think of me at almost midnight. Bored or lonely,I’m the one you heart frequents. And yes, yes you love me.But only on the weekends.