(my beloved, isiZulu)
In the early hours of this morning it was far too hot for anyone to sleep.
You told me I was strange and kissed me
sunk your teeth into my soft bottom lip twice. So hard I thought you drew blood.
I keep getting the feeling that if you look at me for long enough
you may see that I have a thousand fears
just like your mother who never really wanted you to leave
meanwhile mina I am catching up on the sleep that we missed
and waiting patiently to feel normal again.
My thoughts about you are frightening but precise.
I can see the house on the hill where we grow our own vegetables out back
and drink warm wine out of jam jars
and sing songs in the kitchen until the sun comes up
you make me feel like myself
again. Myself before I had any solid reasons to be anything else.
Last night you gave me space to dream bigger than the single bed.
You laughed in your sleep and I cried in mine
and this afternoon we might be tired because the sun is fierce today
and so much happened between midnight and now
but Bhabha you are terror and brilliance
I am the kind of woman who is already teaching my body to miss yours
I am the type of woman who is already teaching my heart to miss yours
and I am quite sure that you will find this unnecessary
but I am already searching for a place to run to and hide when you say,
Uthando lwami. I’m ready. Are you?
You know that I would gladly drive with you to the other side of the world with only the clothes I am wearing
and the loose change
and empty peanut shells in my purse
every time you leave the room I worry
and think that perhaps I have imagined you
and maybe you have imagined me.