26/12/2025
I retreated into work, hiding from the chase,
thinking it was enough.
He left. I ask myself still:
Was it something in me — the shape, the dreams, the past?
"If I could reach him, I’d whisper: “Do you know I miss you — in snow, in laughter, in Harare’s quiet nights, in festivals lit by strangers… in every hollow of time?”
I want a home, a heart that claims mine.
The truth is simple:
I miss you. Every. Day.
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