You broke another mirror

It’s always a battle to arrive here alive

The things that are broken because Thom Yorke said

“You broke another mirror”

The strangers I bit on my way here

The could have avoided fight with the taxi driver, because I was in the mood

And he was not

Practicing wheelwork with my nipples just to give them better skill

Wanting you home to call me a self-loathing poet and that you are bored of me

It’s always a battle to arrive here alive in one piece

Without brightly knocking down carefully inverted film frames

Without being a nervous yellow kite hanging over super hygiene artworks

Without my veins getting thirsty for blood

I am always full of need, hanging too heavy on glass shelves

I don’t know why I fall and don’t get up; stupid body

I will let you make me scream

I am a subtle girl, I let you pick the fight then I spit you out

It’s always a battle to arrive here alive

Right now both of us needs a bath, sick with each other’s heat

I know am not magnificent can we pretend we already met

That we both spill milk on scorching floors and ruin wishes

The nakedness is slowing down now you here, really here

My masochist body against your brutal architecture

There, is your cement smile against the torn floorboards of my skin

Before the first purchase

Before life becomes beautiful even though you say it’s expensive

Before you complain and I laugh

Before I step on my shoelace, scrape my knees, my jazz voice mumbling

Avant Garde to halt the very last taxi

Don’t remember the sound of my name

Remember that it is always a battle to arrive here alive

By Amogelang Maepa


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