There she is, seated by a black grand piano. She is playing a pacifying tune; Ed Sheeran’s Perfect song. The combination of her keys flow seamlessly through one note to another. Call her a natural because she plays with her eyes closed. Guess she is not thinking about what she is playing. She is thinking about who she relates the song to. Who her perfect is. Who is probably sitting by the balcony of a tall building, singing along to what she’s playing. Singing about how he has found a woman who is stronger than anyone he knows. He sings to her from the distance, almost in tears though careful not to get overwhelmed till he trips by the balcony – about how he loves the way she shares his dreams. And if the heavens will be merciful enough, he hopes to share a home with her.
She stops playing. He looks up at the blue glass ceiling, rubs his beard and rests his chin on his palm. It’s as if he is watching her from the glass ceiling. Admiring how beautiful she looks in that black bodycon mid bandage party dress. Her hair braided into locs. Though he tries to hide it, it is written all over his face about how proud he feels for having helped her choose what to wear for her big night. He breathes in and as soon as he breathes out to continue singing, she continues playing in nifty articulations that gives a tune that marries his voice and the symphony of his words.
His words say that they were just kids when they fell in love. They fought against all odds just to stay together. From the first days of their union when they stayed up from dusk till dawn helping one another bury their pasts. To trying their best to keep their little union a secret until they were comfortable enough to have their parents know. To the scarcity of opportunities they had in their timeline to meet. To the fact that he did not have a job for quite a long time after the birth of their union. And to how some of her friends pestered her over choosing a ‘low life’ man.
She sheds a tear when she remembers how far they have come. She is never worried about spoiling her make up when she cries because she does not even do make up. She has never been under pressure to season her face with foundations and pods. She found a man who loves her just the way she is. All natural like the daughter of Mother Nature she is. None of them ever knew they would get to be birds of the same feather and eventually even share a nest.
They first met when they were in uniforms with shouting colours like, say, green and red. She had short curly hair at the time; complemented by her lambent milky white eyes and a smile that ran from one ear to the other. As for him, he didn’t have a beard at the time. Not because they hadn’t grown yet, but because he was forced by policy not to rear them. “Oh his deep voice that can make a girl forget that she owes herself a dignified sitting position. Or make some forsake the manners their mama taught them.” She must have said under her breath. “And the way he dresses like the gentleman he is. Revealing almost every angle of his masculinity. Yea, ‘almost!’ ” Although she was still a girl by then, she was woman enough not to let the demon of desperation find its way to the chambers that house her unmentionables.  It is the demon that takes away every naïve girl today into captivity; holding their unmentionables as leverage against them. To the extent that the only ransom they can pay to be free is seduction. Too bad they never get to know that that doesn’t make them any free. She waited until he came over to her and said, “I love your hairstyle.”
That was when the universe came to a tail spin. When it came to a stop, it had already set their future story in order. He settled. The search for love had finally come to a thrilling stop. Every sign around him said everything from ‘look no further’ to ‘your prayers have been answered.’ Though that was not the end of journeys. Meeting her was the beginning of a tremendous life affair. An affair that involved knowing her exceptionally.
She is a bright and diversely talented girl. She has the qualities of a leader and a best friend that stand out like gold dust among a handful of dirt. And he is convinced that she will make a good mother too whenever she sings about how she has found a love that will carry more than just their secrets. It will carry their children too. He now knows that she is from a good family that is riveted upon Christianity. She has always been daddy’s girl. “The days when a father sobs because her daughter has found a home in the house of the love of her life are soon coming. I can smell them just like the way you can smell the rain in the distance.” Her dad constantly says to her. Her heart leaps and says, “I wish my man would make that day be today.” But a second later she’d also say, “I will miss you too daddy.”
He doesn’t dare talk about how she cooks because if he does, it will take one of her fine dishes to shut him up. Her hands are spices in themselves. He knows too well that if a man finds a woman who can challenge his mother’s cooking, he has found a wife indeed. He is careful not to break it to mama just yet, that he is a man of two houses. Well, it is only a matter of time till he has the guts and not forgetting a sign from the Lord – that he is now ready to leave camp.
He never stops reminding her love that she should look no farther for a home with him. That home is already on his chest.
The chest she lies on whenever the troubles of the day sweep her down to her knees. On that chest is a river bed for her tears to flow on. That chest has heard more of her secrets than his ears have. His chest is a pillow. The only pillow that she finds the deepest sleep on. And on that chest is where she catches her breath after a sensual round. It is at that time that she gives him a plaudit for his prowess in handling her with royalty, like the queen she is and special, like the ruby she is.
The balcony he is standing on shakes in amazement as he sings in his astounding male soprano. The glass ceiling that he is watching the lovely lady on the grand piano through dares to break as he climatically declares in a melody to his only perfect one – that he has found an angel in person. And she looks just perfect for him, tonight, as she celebrates another year of her life. She ends the song in soft articulations through the mastery of her keys as her eyes cannot help but break into tears of love. She can’t wait to see him again someday and whisper how grateful she is for a season together that feels like six years. Though she doesn’t know it, but when that day comes, he will be carrying a white rose flower.


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Written by The Mjango

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