No Space allowed
Closer than my shadow and rivet these artistic hands together…
probably that way the temperature of our bodies could magnify
and faithfully teleport this duo to art galleries and celestial galaxies…
Tattooing this whole being with metaphors and similes…
Leaving the ink to sink engraving melodies…
So these melodies will burn calories…
as our shadows make babies…
Shhhhh let’s pause
Do you feel that?
Feel my hands leave do-re-miz behind your knees…
Lips with tricks forever up my sleeves. .
Tongue like fabric,with talent to make you clean. .
We have acted for so long to cut this scene…
My fingerprints paint your masterpiece of a body
Your planet of curves
Every touch staining rainbows and every kiss beholds stars
Stars that make you shoot despicably until you wish we were not unified in one plea .
So I watch dry places transforming to seas.
Tap dancing to these sacred sounds
We are bound
Close, closer than my heartbeat
Closer than my breath
Closer than my thoughts
Close enough to feel me bleed
So would you?
Would you come closer?
When you confessed your love for her,
when you proposed to her,
did you forget to tell her?
To tell her that you have a fattish, a rather crude envy for handball.
Instead you took the politician stunt and sold her roses with your speech and sunflowers with your eyes.
But you forgot to mention that your hands were exceptional at tying nooses around her neck and that you’d practice handball with her face.
But you should have because in her mind it should have been you to wear an armour so as to save her from such men.
And your arms should have been a compound she runs for refuge
And just by holding your hands her heart would sigh and would whisper you are safe.
But you forgot to tell her that to you she was an attractive ball good enough to be labeled wife
One that you hit against a wall
Throw on the floor
Kick while at it
When you told her you loved her you forgot to tell her that you have a different language for love and its you she would need saving from.
You failed to tell her
But you should have told her.
She could have saved herself .
Words from the author:
This piece is inspired by frequent domestic abuse that my neighbor experiences. It comes from a place where I am confused on why she chooses to stay and also why her husband failed to give her a heads up on how he would treat her later on. I feel this piece is relevant and simple as it is proving to be increasingly relatable.
You never asked me but I just feel like sharing
I hate pink
Okay hate is a strong word
I hate pink
And when I do have a cute lil princess as my daughter she is going to look like a cute lil dude because she will always be in blue
Okay I’m tripping
But I was just thinking
Who announced pink as a print for femininity
And I gotta ask where the heck was their creativity
And in all veracity
Who gave them the duty and authority
Hey you society..
They , They have a tendency.. to blame everything on you ..
Like you are always to blame for what they are going through..
Like you start teaching them young and still at school..
And you define what a woman and a man are to do..
Society teaches me I should be myself but as I sleep society pegs landmines and dynamites just to stop me from taking strides to my home which is in me..
Society says be you Crissy but wait wait not like that
Like I have to live for her
And stares at my uniqueness as hell appropriate
Mama always made wear pink
Then daddy would say that’s my girl and wink
But mama you know I have never been a fan of pink
But mama only cares about what people think
So I’m sorry
I’m sorry I don’t like carrying a purse because I feel like it’s extra luggage, instead I’d prefer my money and my phone to find dreams in my pockets
I’m sorry I’d rather wear white or black t-shirts because everything in between makes me feel weird
I’m sorry my lips never find rest in red lipstick but I’m always forced to wear it when I’m at my sisters
My feet were just not meant for shoes with a 2cm sole, I love vans ,converse and all
So society I guess you having fun in defining me
Hey you society
I have a question
From which scripture do you gather your theories?
Lest you forget that only God defines Good
Not you or your mother but God
That his word is true though often at times its never in sync with how you feel
Hey you Society
Its a sad thing to say that we follow you like twitter birds were our way to exaltation
We allow you to lead our perspection as if you cursived 10 commands on Moses’s stone
Its time we stop stereotyping and making judgments
When ultimately we all have to judged according to the color of our own garments
Being a woman is not sculptured by what color I like or what heels I wear or whether I find comfort in a skirt or whatever I wear..
Being a man is not defined by bicep and triceps or how tall he is or is he has facial hair..
Its defined by the perfect knowledge of the Son of Man
So since I was made by him for him only he can define who I am
So I’m sorry to say I don’t Milly rock to your moves because you don’t make the rules
By the way society is one person
Society is you
It baffles me how we live by your rectified emotions
And March to the sound of your trumpet
I mean its the same you that tells woman its okay to stay when he beats you and slap you with “I love yous”
Its the same you that turn and twist our men to Caitlyn Jenners
Same that raises banner subliminally quoted miracles for sale
For these bodies we lay in are borrowed
We are simply just stewards
And for keeping then pure we are promised a great reward
So what do you have to offer?
What’s in it for me if I choose to follow your path instead nhai society?
The irony is funny really
How I choose to repeat saying hey you society
As if I don’t know who makes it up
Society is you
Society is me
Oh by the way pink might not be such a bad color
Name:Cristol Danai Mubaiwa