MADE TO BE FELT

Hey, hold on to these little fragments of us, will you?

The imperfections of a human being are a reflection of the earth. We are bound together, we are one thing. I believe in the universe, Yes I do. Imperfection is not damage, it is design, Just like the earth loves its cracks, not despite them, but because they make space for the rain.

The cracks on dry leaves,

The coral reefs on the ocean floor,

The vegetation covering on mountain trails,

The beauty of the ruggedness of the majestic mountains,

The aerial views of a forest,

The satisfying feel of sunbathing,

The uneven, layered ground,

The beauty spots,

The small bumps on your skin,
The birthmark that differentiates you from others,
The stretch marks on your skin that might or might not tell a story, not everything has a story, apparently.
Your textured skin,
The random scars,

I live alone and the only impromptu knocks I get is from my neighbor who wants help refilling her power tokens or my caretaker just doing his job. 

I love surprise visits, but surprise by a quick call telling me that you are on your way, but not everyday because a girl loves her privacy, being alone, sinking in the moments of my teddy bears' company and some cheese tortillas watching my comfort show ‘brooklyn 99’ or ‘are we there yet’. With my blackout curtains dimming the room for the full experience. I do other things too, just so you know.

Still, once in a while, a certain knock breaks the stillness, and when it happens, my heart forgets its rhythm, it’s like we are doing this for the first time.

I tiptoe to the door and peek through the clear glass (No, we don’t have peepholes.). I wait for the second knock, I open the door gently and there he is, in his perfection. This has to be one of the most beautiful smiles I have ever come across in my years of existence. I look at him smiling, blushing, scanning him from head to toe wondering why he’s still standing outside. I welcome him and jump on him, hugging him so close like I haven’t seen him in like forever, the scent of his carefully selected perfume hits my nose and the the scent molecules that have evaporated from his body fit into the olfactory receptors, syncing and touching my emotional brain, getting me excited and uncontrollably happy and my whole body reacts, I'm excited, I’m reminded, he’s mine forever.

The grip of his hands on my waist,

...

So,

Let me leave my fingerprints on your skin,

Let my fingers run through your hair,

Let me trace...

Because you were created to feel,

To be felt and be appreciated.

Hey, hey, it's just a thought...

Let me know if this read sparked your interest; your feedback matters!

Disclaimer: The views expressed in this article are my personal reflections and do not constitute professional, legal, or medical advice. They are shared in good faith, based on personal experience and opinion. In line with Article 33 of the Constitution of Kenya (2010), which guarantees freedom of expression, and Article 19 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UDHR), which upholds the right to hold opinions without interference, I respectfully ask that my words not be misinterpreted, misused, or taken out of context. Kindly receive them as shared insight, not instruction.