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    You add him on Facebook
    You check his pictures.
    He Drives A Golf 6/7 GTI
    He confirms.
    He inboxes you.
    You reply, all excited.

    You’ll want to hook up.
    You set a date.
    You dress up that legging with no underwear,
    You smell good
    You put on a makeup – fresh breath & new weave

    He takes you for
    lunch to
    He takes you for drinks at Zygoz
    You two have a good time.
    He rubs your hand,
    Makes you laugh,
    Gives you looks
    and smiles.
    You fall in love.
    It’s like you’ve known him forever.
    He takes you to his apartment.
    He makes you feel comfortable and lays
    you on

    He rubs it gently,
    Kiss you passionately .
    Pulls your leggings ,
    They’re too tight but he manages to take ’em off
    You love his aggression ,
    strength, power & you give in .
    It feels good.
    You know it’s wrong, but it feels
    good .
    You ask for protection, he says it’s too
    You obey & don’t disturb.
    He says he loves you
    & you don’t hesitate to say
    you love him too.
    He fucks you
    He pulls out, goes to the
    kitchen to get a glass of water.
    He helps you drink it,
    Ohh man!
    You feel special.
    He must be the one, you think
    to yourself
    You get dressed.
    He takes you to the taxi rank
    He kisses
    you on the cheek and
    “I had a great time,”
    Gives You Shs.2500
    You smile & say
    ” See you tomorrow babe ” .
    He stays silent.

    Your taxi drives away,
    In the taxi you can’t stop

    You get home & inbox him
    that you got home safe.
    He is online,
    It’s unlike him, so you inbox him again.
    He doesn’t respond.

    Minutes later
    you can’t find him on your friend list.
    He blocked you.
    Days, weeks, a month passes by.
    You start feeling sick, weak, lose weight, act strange with sores
    In your mouth.
    You go to the clinic.
    Get tested.
    Minutes later,
    “I’m sorry.You’re HIV Postive& Pregnant”
    You don’t understand.
    Reality hits you.
    You walk home.
    Confused .

    You go to the train railway.
    You lay, hopeless, emotionless.
    You hear the chugging drawing nearer.
    You look into the sky & mumble a prayer.
    Bright Lights hit your face, and then
    You see the red curtains of your soul.

    © Mugo Mutegi

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    I like this poem. I enjoy the way it tackles the subject of ‘love’ the materiality of it all, the opportunism of men and women, with so much ease.

    I don’t like the punctuation and some line breaks look so contrived. Don’t you think ‘train railway’ is tautologous?


    Powerful powerful

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