Senses

By. Neema Murimi

Smell the taste of me.

Touch the sound of me.

See me with your hands I exist 

In every sense of you.
Of he
Of she 
Of them.

I flow where I want
Go where I please
I don’t knock
Before I enter
Because I was always there In the thick of it
The middle of the room
A centerpiece

Sometimes
You forgot about me
Let dust settle on
My surfaces
But I vibrate
I self-clean
And you,
You will hear me
And you will cling
To the very thing
That gives you life

You will no longer
Shun me
I will not be isolated
Like a leper
You will stand at attention And you will hear
With every decibel
A resonant echo
That casts out
Fear. 

Neema Murimi is a writer, poet, artist, adventurer, and professional laugher who does not take herself very seriously. She works with children in foster care and is currently saving up money to launch her business focused on helping people get where they want to be.

Website: www.theratalk.org
Book: www.tinyurl.com/jqgasx4
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/nemnemsawasawa/ Email: neema.maria.murimi@gmail.com

SHARE THIS ROAR