POETS TO KNOW: MMADIKA MPHUTHI Abangoma I am Abangoma who’s voices were drowned by sirens and flashing blue lights.I imagine my sack of flesh manoeuvring its way through a feigned reality.I feel isphithiphithi everywhere.I dream that the black body finds solace outside of death before the gift of life escapes me.I am Abangoma above all. The Erosive Nature ofI was but ____ when I fell in love with OkwonkwoNow I see him everywhere, everyday, like a love that refuses its own mortalityA love that would be confronted with a gross lack of the very elements that which conceptualize itUnrecognizableYou thought you could sway through his turmoilYou tried to walk through KatrinaThe women who glide, dance in the eyes of ruffling windsWomen so mystical the naked eye dare not set itself upon themBut leer closeTo witness things fall apart. To the femmes who are up at the crack of dawn to participate in meal prep entailing hours of chopping vegetables at gatherings, only to be the last ones to eat. Serving ourselves after countless hours of serving others.For the “uppity” femmes who sit with their arms neatly folded and forbidding, and their freshly done manicures stating their defiance against gender role performance. We’re magic. Gqwala ngathi. FOLLOW MMADIKA ON INSTAGRAMFOLLOW MMADIKA ON TWITTERFOLLOW MMADIKA ON TUMBLR poetry, writing, identityBianca Jean-PierreAugust 11, 2019South-Africa, Mmadika Mphuthi, poetryComment Facebook0 Twitter Pinterest0 0 Likes