Poetry, Tale Africa


By Lethica Nair, South Africa:

I'm on a treadmill of nostalgia

I keep running our lines over and over again

Wondering where we went wrong

What did I say to you that made you choose a different part?

I have to tie myself to the edges of my pride

So I do not fall for you every time I see you.

I have to shove my excitement down my throat

So my love doesn't announce itself every time it meets your eyes

I think of you till I become unconscious

I've been writing about you ever since I've met you

I've been hoping that these words crawl out of the page

And hold your hand gently when you feel anxious

And kiss your lips softly when you're unsure

And stare into your eyes deeply when you're doubtful

But you already have all of that.

To you my words are



I keep running on the treadmill of longing that I have for you.

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