By Vimbai Chimanikire, Zimbabwe:
Funny how I see myself through your eyes – Cotton-candy fro, rich black and so thick, all resting on a thought basket. Is the sky a reflection of the sea? Does my grandmother's spirit watch me as I sleep? Why am I called black when my skin is brown? A forest of unspoken fears: Afraid of not being good enough for the one you love. Not reaching the destination. Not knowing the destination. Seeing the light, but not knowing how to get there.
Brown eyes staring out from within the soul. Windows into the world that once was a playground before hurricanes, earthquakes, politics and bad minds. Capturing every ounce of beauty. Big. Small. Unusual. Never common. Remembering faces, forgetting names. Telling apart what needs no separation. I am your sister, you are my brother.
The heat cracks my lips. Highway to every word that rolls off the tongue. I love you. I am sorry. Singing along to Chiwoniso Maraire, whispering the Lord's Prayer in tough times. Mumbling inaudible complaints when mother sends you to the market; for the second time in a day.
A heartfelt Thank you.
In you, I see a beautiful being that has ceased to live. Doubt, like that one aunt who pops in uninvited, makes herself comfortable in the corner of your mind sipping on your confidence. I see a heart worn furthest from the sleeve, because Love spells Vulnerable.
“Oh dear, when will you see.”
3,163 total views, 1 views today