As a man, you tell yourself that no woman is too much to handle. The boys need to know that alpha female is a made up concept. You aren’t scared of feminists especially the ones ready to get into a fist fight. Fighting the girl child.
One on your boys talked about how his exes shredded his stuff. His Chelsea t-shirt, educational certificates and whatever else caught her eye. Luckily, he found her just before she started ‘redecorating’ their home. Ian no longer wants a woman that loves the kitchen. That’s where the knives sleep.
Yet, you love crazy girls. They set you on fire. Life never stops with them. She just needs a man that can handle her. A real man whose masculinity is never in question.
Looking into the mirror, applying your Nivea aftershave, you chant ‘I’ve got it.’
Susan is just a little crazy. She loves deeply. However, if she doubts whatever you’re doing then it’s a wrap. Susan will invoke words that you’ve never heard of. English was never your strongest language. Still so sexy yet dangerous. You remain a moth attracted to the flame. Susan could be plotting murder right in front you and she’ll get away with it. She’s book smart.
Cynthia baked chocolate cake for your birthday. It melted in your mouth like ice-cream. You understood the link between chocolate, orgasm and aphrodisiac. If you ended up on a desert island then she’s the only thing you need. An inner strength emanates from her when she’s sharpening her knives before she starts prepping meat.
Tommy tells you that he can’t trust a woman with a personal knife collection.
You laugh at him. Telling him that he can’t handle a chef since mutura is the only delicacy his lips have ever tasted.
One day, you find your way home late into the night. Glasses are breaking in your house. Just like rain hitting the ground. Consistently and loudly.
You reach the kitchen and see Cynthia with a crazed look in her eyes.Your heart is racing and your face is starting. The cleaver knife is sticking out of the kitchen set and the moonlight is hitting it at an angle. The room feels tight like a boa constrictor circling around you.
‘What did I tell you,’ Tommy tells you as he hands you another beer. With a furrowed forehead, he just nods his head.
You can’t understand why things look beautiful in the beginning but turn into something sinister later on.
Lucy is woke. Her dreads are neat and coiled as a bun on top of her head. She says that being woke is important. Her mantra Get up, stand up, stand up for your rights by Bob Marley.
In one afterlife, you can picture her ruling over an island with female sages in her inner council. Ruling over men. With a heart that cares too deeply but an undeniable strength that demands respect.
You realise that both of you are going in different directions. So you decide to end things amicably.
With strong arms and thighs. Lucy pins you into the ground with a fierce look in her eyes. Shakes her dreads free and starts chanting into the sky uncontrollably. You can’t make any sense out of it but you want it to end.
Finally, she stares into your eyes and says ‘You can only leave me in death.’