At the end of a long day, the beautiful girl swings by her ‘friend’s’ place.

Her boss has been crawling up her rectum all day, a couple of clients (older and ugly clients) couldn’t stop ogling at her and one of her creepy workmates just kept asking her out all day.

So now that the evening is here, all she wants is to go some place, kick off her shoes, enjoy a cold drink and have great sex.

So she calls her boyfriend, lies that she’ll be working late and goes to her ‘friend’s’ place.

Her boyfriend is the type that never seems to have any passion or hope in life. He is a perennial downer that boyfriend of hers, that’s why she is cheating on him. He is a good man yes, but she could use a little less negative energy in her life and that’s what her ‘friend’ is there for.

He is fun, crazy in a good way and knows just how to show a girl a good time. She knocks on his door and he answers with a smile and a cold drink.  He lifts her from this galaxy on to the next one and she moans from Nairobi to Antarctica.

Two hours later they are lying in his bed naked. Her ‘friend’ is sharing a joke but she isn’t listening. Her mind is on her boyfriend who is alone at home. She thinks that maybe he is painting another one of his depressing paintings, or maybe he is listening to slow heartbreaking music and wondering why life is so tough on him. She misses him and just how deep his soul runs. So she grabs her phone and calls him.

Her: (Into the phone once her boyfriend answers) Hi love. You holding up OK?

Him: I’m alright. I love the wine you brought home yesterday. It helps me paint.

Her: You miss me?

Him: Guess what I am painting right now.

Her: What are you painting? (Her ‘friend’ wants to kiss her on the lips but she scowls and pushes him away. She feels bad being here with him instead of at home with her boring man.)

Him: Do you remember the first time we met? It was at Leakey’s Art Gallery and I was staring at a painting by… I don’t remember that painter’s name…

Her: I remember. Calvin something…

Him: (Laughing) Calvin Ngumi… Yeah. I always thought that was a weird name. Anyway, it was a painting about the 1998 American Embassy bombing and it looked so surreal and…

Her: I approached and asked if you liked staring at paintings about death and you said…

Him & Her: (Simultaneously) I don’t see death. I see humans at their most open and vulnerable. (Then they stay silent for about five second)

Him: Then you looked at me with those big brown eyes and shook my hand.

Her: And then I looked at the painting with a pair of new big brown eyes. (She can hear him laughing on the other side so she chuckles and covers herself up like she has just noticed how naked she is. Her eyes begin to moisten.)

Him: Well, I am painting that moment when we first met and stared at that painting together.

Her: Are you listening to any music?

Him: (Laughing) You know I am listening to something. The boring type you hate to call music.

Her: (Breaking voice) I miss you.

Him: Are you sure you are doing OK?

Her: I’ll be better when I see you.

Him: Come home. I’ll wait up.


At the end of a long day, the beautiful girl quickly dresses up, tries to wipe the tears of her face but more keep trickling down and runs all the way home.

This poem is about: 
Our world


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