I'm in love with a few men. You roll your eyes, think I didn't see that? I caught you!
You're judging and screaming in your mind - bad bitch! But I wish I cared about your thought.
Men, gallant with the softest of hearts. With hard palms and firm grips that scream - I won't let you fall!
Men, with spirits pure and ready to love. Sensitive to care, soft in speech and touch. But again, you roll your eyes. Stories for the gods, you say.
A few good men love me, I love them too but have to stay committed to a single unit. Can I be a criminal for love? Cause want to be wanted?
My young years have planted gardens of lovely roses - of different colours, shades and sizes. Witnessed them bloom and watched the flood wear them all off like an avalanche.
I have a few men! I brag in pride. Philanderer! You accuse. Haha! I walk past you with zero shame.
With these men, I walk, at the golden hour of the sun’s dawn. Through a million highs and lows of nameless Nigerian bush paths called streets. Together we ride on bicycles to neverland while embracing the chilly air of the northern wind.
A few men know my story and can guess my next step. They know my dream of seeing the midnight sun and kissing under the northern lights. They are the harmless, living proof that a few good men exist. With hearts of gold, ready to serve. Ready to build and nurture and be lovely models to the human feet coming right after their steps.
These men live in our world as an army. They walk around and dwell amongst us. If only we came closer or walked a little slower or stopped to listen, breathe, and be. Then would we see, perceive, and hear, the tenderness of their heartbeats. The depths of their thick voices and their fragile nature cloaked in masculinity.
Cause a few good men are patient and willing to walk us down that path even as we wear off the old skin of bad habits. They would choose us over and again despite the array of diverse skin tones and hourglass shapes.
They’d treat us as the only woman in their world - Paying allegiance in word and action to their Queen.
They've taught me a few lessons about life even as they earn an honest living. Armed with a heart to give till the saviour returns, they teach forgiveness and model our Christ.
A few men have loved me and I love them too. I hope to put some names on them someday to the hearing of my womblings.