to send such angst into the sky,
toss things back to God in high fashion,
requires a plan.

the planets are lined, my love, ancient
bones grace my floor — chalkwhite bits of wisdom
signal our fate.

i’ve taken the pins, the needles, from my foot,
shaken years of history from my nape;
calmly, i await the kingdom.

but, pondering these voices, this hollow space,
and Africa chiselled on my face
in sparks of creation…

hammer*mogadishu, sight*durban, barrel*cape,
trigger*yao-
undé,grip*
the sahel

…like the planets i’m ready too
for a future bloodied anew,
and wonder if i should not now
tell you that i have no fear of you.

© Rethabile Masilo [more…]