– By Bulumko Nyamezele
(Cradock)
I’m lost in the perfection of your spotless face No path for my ego to trace your insecurities and display them on the subtle steps of my sinking courtship
Epiphany: lately the only time we treasure women is when they have an X next to their names
At times you live with your eyes closed, bracing your contours for my illiterate touch I am a layman but at times I find your nest full of lessons that my ego can’t accept I’m marveled in the secrets that you’ve drawn for me to recite, emotional spells to cast when your heart has lost sight and my mind has hidden your reasons for dating me
Epiphany: you’re no longer blinded by my shinning armor and I stand idle as medusa’s bloody eyes form rust on the crevices of my most potent weapon which is your belief in me Your tears are salty revelations manifested in the flawed crux of my misguided masculinity
Translation: I think too much when all you want to do is feel me and I feel like I’ve lost myself in trying to translate your emotions into a language which my pride can understand
The Underground Disciple 