Kenya
I love to imagine.I love words.I was born to create.
Upon her last breath: an unwinding path was engraved in the earth Across hills and valleys Dark streets and alleys Mountain snow, Began to thaw Ebbing rivers, ceased their flow All life seemed to know her breath had been drawn Upon her last breath: the weeping rock whose hands we'd never known cupped them in...
This story has a chest This chest a story A double breasted story Two perfect breasts If two are better than one What about none? does zero suffice as even? He had me at: "Are those real?" I smiled ; As he marvelled My real breasts would have slapped him down But this pair lacked...
A vibrant woman who refers to herself as a fat cyclist shares her cycling experiences, lessons, insecurities and achievements on the crazy Kenyan roads.
Close to nature, freed of traffic jams, awake and flushed with endorphins by the time you arrive at work - perhaps some of the best aspects of commuting by bike? Pedalling through the relentless rain, navigating HGV-clogged roads or being cut up by a thoughtless driver - perhaps the worst?
I have been walking the earth on my toes, in a feline fashion. Evading with sheer stealth lessons that were hang out not to dry, but were simply there for reference like the way one looks through the dictionary to find new vocabulary. Lessons that were written on a stranger's face and in a friend's smile.