I was 21 when I first experienced a romance so hot and so sticky it caused the skies to part and rain to fall. It was an orgasmic release from the heavens mirroring the same below. I attributed these misty miracles to the sizzling sexual friction caused between me and a man. Consequently, I spent over a decade chasing flames, eager to remain ablaze and to inspire the skies to splash their waterfalls down on me. I believed I couldn’t spell romance without a man. It wasn’t until my most recent birthday I gave myself permission to.
© 2024 Sheila Ongwae
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