Wednesday, 01:23:31 AM





At the height of the night / When the sun sits highest in the sky / You can hear the cows and goats of the village bickering and howling / Everyone shuts their doors and switches off the fire

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They Keep Taking Everything

We are always scared that we might turn up dead tomorrow, and when we don’t, another woman dies instead. We wake up to the weight of the news like it is our own story because it is, because we are her, and she too was like us before she was taken. She too lived in a space of unknown seconds to come, she too was like us when she read of women who were stabbed, raped and brutally murdered by lovers, strangers, service consultants, friends, colleagues and relatives. We cry.

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Koko danced herself into a casket / Offering her blood as a tablecloth / She is skin, melting away at the seams, / Offering her rupture as a chorus

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I Cannot White Anymore

I do not want to white anymore! I do not want to rainbow without bread. I do not want to hate Cecil and anthem with his children, to shoot Hofmeyr and dance to Micasa, to burn sparrows and mourn the death of cleggs, to hate Eugene and thank Slovo.

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