Naked felt no Shame

I once met a man who called "Macho" Mashoe.

I knew him enough to tell you of his soul.

He would always say a compass would never lead me home, because home will be wherever I call my own.

Somehow, he used to be my blanket whenever I was cold.

He once soaked my lips into his and we were naked as Adam was with Eve.

Countless times, we had sinned.

We ran from the world, but they still could see.

We once played roughly behind the curtains.

Peanut butter was his favorite thing.

To him, eating palm oil was a sin.

But bitting through the soft part of my skin, the very part that wore beads; wasn't.

He did very well at lifting my heads up whenever I was stuck, just as well as he could position my body to be eager for lovemaking.

I once knew a man whose anger I wish I had never seen.

The way he stammers as though nature has failed him; battling with words lesser than he does with my anatomy.

I once knew a man who knew me.

To him, I bared myself to no limits.

He'd run his hands through my hair and whisper; forgive me for never calling you my lady.

I once knew a man.

Yes, a man who knew me.

A man who never said he loves me.

I once knew a man who knew me

Yet, our ways were better hidden.

I once knew a man with whom my naked felt no shame and his was the same.

Yet, there was something we didn't say.

I once knew a man who knew love, but never told me.

I know him till this day.