The bin(ry orch(rds remind me of your Pic(sso f(ce. The cement (ir between your lips, even (fter ye(rs you (re still the voice from where birds le(pt, where the dim sky still follows you like mild robbers, where the clicking of your shoes silences the de(d m(n (nd your (rms, like two p(irs of white lilies, served (s dinner on tombs
Le#ves in w#ter
They bloom just (s summer perpetu(ted, The m(rvel d(res to ride the w(ve pushing (nd pulling the s(nd out of the w(ter, The fuse like fire resurf(ces to burn (g(in We w(it for springtime, t(lking to the trees, they h(rmed, we listened jingle bells ringing from door hinges In October the le(ves (flo(t the w(ter, our sins hop on the green scooters (nd c(rry us onto the shore, We l(y on our b(cks (nd w(tched (s October w(s cut to pieces by helicopters.
They le(ve the w(r before the w(ter comes, they stood still with their sticks in silence (nd the tide w(shed (w(y empty mouths, Ghosts hung over w(ves hoping to return home, but it is night time (nd there (re no more bones left to sing to, (nd I (m no Coyote to dr(g the le(ves out of the w(ter.
Londeka Mdluli is a dual nationality writer of Zimbabwean heritage born and raised on the outskirts of the Mpumalanga province in South Africa. Mdluli began writing poetry at age nine after falling in love with rhetoric and has lately written many of her pieces based on what she finds most charming: water. This, her first publication, comes the day before her nineteenth birthday.