In Her Arms

Africa. My love.

You, my dear, are sweeter than words can describe.

But I really feel I must try.

Knowing, of course, that I may never do you justice.

I can feel your arms, wrapped tightly around me, pulling me close.

I can feel your breath on my neck.

Your heart beating against my chest.

Your tastes, your smells, and your sounds gently caressing my body.

I can feel the beat of your pulse, so in sync with mine,

that it’s difficult to know where you end, and I begin.

There was that night that we danced.

And I fell in love with you.


There was that night that we laid in the dark,

your eyes piercing mine.

My heart interlaced with yours.

Your hands holding mine. Tightly. Passionately.

With love.

A million heavy pasts slipped away when I fell in love with you.

Thankfully. Deeply.

My soul was newly revealed.

My heart was newly held.

My being was newly loved.

I cannot imagine a world without you, Africa.

You are the heart, the soul, the beauty of the world.


I’m so in love with you.