She will not ask
you to stay.
Instead, she will ask you
to listen to her chants—
a hymn
of all the things
she will remember you by
when you decide to leave her.
She will start
with how the crescent moon
reminds her of your thin smile.
Then, of the warm glow
of the streetlamps at dusk
when you walk her home
to Obrero.
She will tell you
how the small scar
right below your nose
reminds her of lightning.
She will smile
fondly to herself
when you kiss her.
Your soft kisses
remind her that you could
love the beauty frightening things.
This way, she will not
grow fearful of the storm
that is her. This will make her march
to the thunder of her heart.
And when you finally decide
to leave her,
she will not remind you
how you made her feel safe
when you held her in your arms
as she clawed at her sheets
for warmth.
Instead, she will whisper
so close to your ear
until you hear a ghost of a cry,
that she built a fortress
on your arms
that she still calls
home.
Zakiyyah Sinarimbo is a coffee enthusiast by day, a law student by night. She is a mother to five cats.