To my Mhofu Mutasvi, What do I want from our marriage? I could lie. I could tell you I just want peace, stability and a man who comes home on time. But you don’t deserve a watered-down woman. So here it is-unfiltered, unpretty, unafraid: I want you, my husband to fvck me like you’re angry I exist but love me like I’m the only reason you’re still breathing. I want to lose track of who’s in control, because we both know how to take it and give it back I want to feel your hands shaking because of me. Not because you’re unsure, but because you feel too much and you finally met a woman who can hold it I don’t want perfection. I want presence. I want your rage when the world tries me, your voice raised in defense of my softness, your body a barricade when life comes too hard. I want you possessive of my time, but never trying to cage me. I want mornings where you wake up inside me, no words, just breath. I want evenings where we ignore the world, where my head on your chest feels like a lullaby you never knew you needed. I want to ruin your taste for other women. Not because I’m trying but because no one else speaks your language the way I do. I want you addicted to my peace and my madness, my softness and my storms. I want you, my Husband, to always want to win, not just out there, but in here. In this love. This war. This healing. This relentless, beautiful, gritty, holy fvcking thing we’re building. I want your whole self. The Broken parts. The scared parts. The BEAST. The boy. The KING. I WILL LOVE YOU FOREVER AND ALWAYS. Happy 1 year anniversary Mutasvi wangu. Your Bhiza, Mamoyo. - @providence.mahiya