Emenen
The first night we all met together, the clouds looked pregnant but no rain seemed incoming. There was also this heat, this persistent steamy air everywhere that threatened to burn your face. After locating everyone, we all ran up the stairs in pairs holding hands. Kam opened the door to my room and stepped in. The smile I saw spring onto their face when the fresh AC air greeted them made all those nights I lived frugally worth it. In the room, we could all breathe better, and see better even. Kam went into the kitchenette and returned with wipes. Approaching me first, they came closer and the familiar candy breath rushed into my nostrils and for an instant, I felt possessed when I grabbed them and implanted a kiss on their lips like I'd been wanting to do for months.
The rain is a subtle thing. Delicately, slowly, it will enchant your skin. Dropping sprinkling promises of a dream long forgotten. With its pattering chants of joy, it will draw you in, singing songs you once knew so well. And then, you finally give in. And then you watch yourself, this thing in an adult body, pirouetting through bursts of heaven showers, giggling and smiling like you once did when you were a kid. This is what rain does. This is a subtle lover's love. This is coming back home.
To love you was to watch my heart slowly emerge from its shell
as a turtle does
with unsure but determined motion
towards a world unknown and dangerous.
To love you was to watch my heart slowly emerge from its shell
only to get crushed
shell and its content
by expectations of a just world.
"Just because your heart is kind
doesn't mean the world will be kind to you",
you said.
the confusion is a swirl
a whirlwind of thoughts
that you fear will soon whisk sanity away
what colour is your madness
mine wears the rainbow robes of Joseph
and is amazed at the bile
that leisurely sits in the heart of man
As the kids played, an idea popped into the head of the boy who sat by himself. The brown wind blowing with colourful nylons dancing all around in the sky had given him this idea. He would make a kite so strong and beautiful that it would contend with an eagle's wings and soar higher than any kite could possibly go. That was an exaggerated possibility but that didn't matter to the boy. And with that, he set out looking for his tools. Finally, the other kids would see that he was worth playing with. They would come begging, he was sure of it!
When another man comes straggling in
begging you to warm his bones
remember how you sliced your skin open before him
brought out the blaze residing in your chest and asked him to drink
He debauched
and with your warmth now his strength
he stood up and left when he saw you turning cold yourself
he left
along with all your fire.
Or almost all your fire.
Lucky for you
your people were no ordinary ancestors
they were magical
and you had their blood coursing through you
so with that magic and flickers left of a heart that was once fire
you nursed you back
alone
and now you stand here
stitched but even more magical because you now know where you come from
so remember
when another man comes limping in
begging you to warm his bones
tell him it's not your duty to fill up a man lacking
tell him you can't help him
tell him you need your warmth for yourself
and after closing the door in his face
return to yourself, to your magic and fire
and dance
because you now understand that you're your own lover before anyone else's
Sandi always had a lot of makeup on. She said it made her look older and she liked it. The heavy face came with the respect she demanded from colleagues and obedience to her commands from juniors. Being gifted. or cursed as she liked to see it, with a soft, low voice had never helped her. And the fact that she also had to carry a petite physique with minuscule hands and feet alongside that tiny voice only worsened matters. Growing up, she was constantly being laughed at when shrieking out orders and that ruined her self-esteem for a while. She wanted nothing more than to just be taken seriously. Even her family and younger siblings had unconsciously played parts in further damaging her self-image. Discovering foundations and bronzers and liners from an early age saved her. But no matter what she said or tried to make me see, even with all that makeup on, I could always see a wisp of her youthfulness pass by in the littlest things. From the playfulness of her smile towards my direction to the way she twirls her hair or chews on her pen when in deep concentration. Even her shrilled laughter always running toward heaven gave her away. There was no denying, a child was forced to grow up too quickly.
Very few places have the wonder that surrounds my hillside work environment. I had started to stay back at work till very late not necessarily because I enjoyed the work. In the early evenings, everywhere turns mildly dark. The kind that was too dark to recognize a face approaching but not dark enough not to see that one was coming. Once I was done for the day, I'd go sit by a large lonely stone that felt cold and welcoming and faced the hill. It always feels wonderful to finally be alone. I'd light an incense stick and watch as the smoke slowly danced and mixed with the fog. Nothing pleases me more than a beautiful and nice-smelling space. Eventually, both the smoke and fog will hover over my head and go up to the sky. The sky will usually be lit with bright stars and dark purple hues. All I do while seated will be to try and make out shapes and forms from them, and sometimes from the fog.
My cue to head home is usually when the dew starts descending and the cold stone gets damp. As much as I love the rain, I hate damp places so I gather my things together, incense stick in mouth, and hurry to my car and head home.
At the height of the cliff
after the feat has been accomplished
with the wind billowing
and the clear sky so near you can almost touch it
you ask yourself what all this has been for
the answer is in the skips of your heartbeat
the jittery dance of your stomach
and the wide smile sitting across your face
this, right here, is where happiness resides
Time stops flying when loss takes residence at your home.
Wings cut short with nowhere else to go
He sits still with you when grief shows up as your dining companion.
There like he isn't
Staring as an obedient child does, quiet, watching and unmoving
as insanity comes over too
to make deals with you all-alluringly
If only he could do something
push memory away from force-feeding you watered-down dreams
or offer you his company and comfort instead
when death winks your way to come share a drink with him
Time does nothing, none of these things
he just watches on still.
with wings cut short and nowhere to go
he may sit with you
but does nothing else
because he is as helpless as you are
when these dreaded visitors come through your door
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