Whenever daylight falls upon the city
(for the Dutch poet Joop Bersee)
Elijah. David. Jeremiah. Job. Jonah.
God's chosen. There were others. There were others.
I've written about this before. Falling
in love and falling to the centre of being
out of love but I've never written about
our love before. You made the veins in
my heart splendidly narrow so that only
the pure river could flow through.
The smell of roses. Old wounds forgotten.
Only the reigning legend of the sparse --
sparse river could get through the shepherd
before anything else. Before the blood itself. I wanted you to
know that I'm pressed for time. That
you've been a legend in my life before
you became a legend in real life. I'm
writing this to thank you for not taking me
all the way to madness like the others
did. You were the virtuous one. You were
the one who saved me. I just thought
that you should know that. I've been carrying
that around with me for the longest time
You were the original authentic.
Genuine. They were fake but I ate
their cake anyway because I was
young. I called myself victim under a
million stars. I just wanted you to
know that life is different for me now.
I'm no longer running up streets and
down streets in Johannesburg-citylife.
I'm authoritative when it comes to
my feelings now. I don't try to slip a yes in
when I mean no. I've learned how to say no.
Oh, I also know what thirst is. But I
don't project my hate unto other people
and I listen to others (which I never ever
did before). This grid, I have put it away.