Chimamanda you was behind it all. You are always behind it all.
Below is something I wrote one night for a special someone (not my Chimamanda), at some time past midnight probably, the light from laptop screen burning my eyes but my fingers feeling like electricity - this meant that I had to write this, couldn't have slept if I didn't.
So anyway, this is a little something for you mon amour. Nothing more or less.
Accept.
If my love was water filled in a bucket,
It would be tipping on each side, spilling over the edges of the bucket.
Drops of it going on the floor, unable to stay still and not leave the bucket.
My love overflows. But the bucket never gets empty.
It always stays full.
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This is beautiful
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