“Jewoo Joseph,” I call her, “My Jewel Jewoo!” Does it matter? She is my J. J
And it’s her birthday!
She was born in the throes of passion.
The act was noble, and the day ordained
No sin! No tabia mbaya! But love on the rooftop.
Love that must have dimmed the eyes of the actors
But does it matter? She is my J. J, it’s her birthday.
And she was born on 12/12!
Happy birthday Jewoo.
 
I guess! Or do I believe so? That,
When she was conceived,
The moon must have been full and brighter
And its beams must have filtered through the ridges of Samar,
A Samar! They forgot to give her as a name, perhaps they mistook it for Sarah, or is she Sokomo?
I don’t know. She is both. She is not both!...