Read the first of the series here. She walks through, Roads filled with street signs and scars, Of graffiti and tattoos on walls, Sex symbols and misery in red, RRUUN, She knows not to stay, She knows not to become one with the darkness of the night, She knows not, Of prostitutes and pimps that [...]
Sometimes we forget. That those closest to us are capable of the most heinous acts.
Your mother was an old, vibrant soul. Naomi Nothando Dube? Wasn't that her name? A daughter of the soil, she birthed you out of auras and Afrika, beauty and fragility. Your words recite her truths, stories of slavery and sub-Saharan romance, apartheid and rain gods, Your ebony heritage has never been so sexy to me. [...]