This one is for the ones looking for the one
Have you found her?
I often stare at her as she walks on by,
Chu ngcembe intombazana ukunyathela,
She tip toes on those feet snugly fit in those peep toe heels.
Back and forth, she swings.
The rhythm her feet conjuring up a melody only followed by the harp in her hips.
Music is what she makes.
A beat is what I hear
A beat similar to the beat of my own beat
Her harp and my heart seemingly intertwined
In the production of musical notes for the orchestra of the soul
But… she doesn’t even know I exist
She speaks, and for a moment time is a concept of no significance
For a moment it matters only the motion of her lips
As they rise and dip in the formulation of that single sentence
In high definition slow motion I am caught mesmerized
By the curvatures and contours of her face
As they lift and deepen, shift and slide
To allow for the outflow of the simplest line…
That simple “hi, how are you?”
Only it isn’t at me it’s directed… she doesn’t know I exist
Conscious conversations with my subconscious mind
Triggering dialog written in me before the dawn of time
Elokgqibela kodwa lona linye
I have to make her mine
Sugoba dolo, qina mqolo,
As I walk towards the one I loved so long
Rehearsing my opener in apprehension of rejection
But with the prayer of reception
The closer I get to her, the words in my head disappear one by one
So I say hi, I mean hey… I mean… hayi mani molo
And I exist