(for Gideon and Barasa, without whom the Nairobi lights shine a little dimmer)

And if I go

may it be silently in the dead of the night

pick up the pieces of me and put them somewhere in the corner – far from view.

If you must cry,

do it in a way that you dwell.

May the grief show you new ways to live

new ways to love.

Let the tears be a release,

an afterburner that propels you so far forward you’ll have to look back to see the future.

And when you look back

do not see that I was.

See that I am,

and always will be,

right here.

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