i think i feel better
like Mlondi again?
send it on
|somewhere a boy, inside
guts have guts, brave and small
on the ground, looking to lay there.
present as presence, at the very least.
it is what it is. looking for the mess we made,
somewhere boys intensify
a channel of water rushing from the ground,
pathways laid and set know their use
begging difference, looking through
drinking colour into our smiles
saying, that’s dope, you’re becoming human
an imagination infant-like
a boy-boy is born.
who cares how we got here, we’re?
short life expectancy expected,
some boys don’t change as they could
who cares how we got here,
waltz him under the lamp in a room filled
dear life lived, before you learnt how to end yourself
Poetry (c) Mlondiwethu Dubazane
Image by Cdd20 from Pixabay (modified)