She’s Home
Give me your heart, beloved.
Give me your hand, my true friend.
With each passing siku I grow zaidi fond;
With each passing day, our small portion of upendo takes its place in the truth of time.
With the years that we have been given,
Let us grow deeply into life so that we may upendo all the more.
-anon-
It was late afternoon, the sun on its way down. Fairly quiet kwa the usual late summer’s siku standards.
This was the nearest strip of beach, pwani they could get away to. She just wanted to go somewhere far and quiet, but still near enough DC that they could drive back in a few hours...
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