Vincent de Paul - Kenyan Writer
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Like You Love Me
Like You Love Me

  Sit on my lap like you love me but don’t put your hands on me. Kiss me like you love me but don’t close your eyes. Consort with me like you love me but don’t come with me.

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Mating of the Crows
Mating of the Crows

Love and hate keep them together and love and hate mate. He, love, worships her on the altar of love has sacrificed the world for his goddess. She, hate, despises him her love for him is disgust. All what love wants is her heart, body and soul All hate gives is coldness and aloofness; yet

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FICTION | Late Night Shootout at Embakasi
FICTION | Late Night Shootout at Embakasi

Most soldiers, while in the battlefield, fantasize of palm-fringed beaches, sex, and alcohol when, and if, they get back home; not necessarily in that order. They watch poor quality porn on their phones to remind them of what they are missing, and how the female body looks like. That’s most soldiers, but I am not

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POEM | Our HOME is not yours
POEM | Our HOME is not yours

No one chases visitors from their home unless the visitors have overstayed their welcome you only wish they were gone when the morsel you had you’ve fed them Your family starving before clouds gather for the next season the neighbor you used to tithe whose prayers made you gracious in the eyes of God now

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POEM | Maimun
POEM | Maimun

She’s behind a wall so high that I couldn’t climb but I’m going to wait outside to see Maimun. She’s my moon and I’m her night time when she comes out and lets me see beneath her burqa. Maimun takes it off: her burqa her shash           her dirac and lets me see beneath her—beautiful!

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