And Back Again
…the ever present threat that brought me is not over.
I beg to excuse myself, to the bathroom, to check my phone.
…the ever present threat that brought me is not over.
I beg to excuse myself, to the bathroom, to check my phone.
…she still remembers how handsome you were.
She remembers you with a full smile, and she gave us all her strong teeth.
It would be irresponsible to interfere with an ongoing court case, so I wouldn’t want to do that.
Sometimes, when I dream,
I wake up as nothing short of
A Proud African Woman.
But, I’ve always been short.
And I can’t paint my skin…
…we were all told not to speak of it.
But in the night, these memories haunt, lips sealed, we see each other different.
with their husbands names,
hidden under their teeth…
. To know, that that act was possible, and in plain view of other human beings, has broken me in ways that I’m yet to learn how to express.
. The morality of victim is always called into question. I think my story, can easily be summed up as ‘alijipeleka’
In our ideology of morality,
Silence is the right answer.
Bite your tongue, until it
bleeds iron tasting kisses, onto him.