after all these years…

it was a fault of shortsight.

to read chalk
on a blackboard;
the bridge between
seeing and learning,
built another
crooked bridge:
out of malleable bone
and pliable years.
And in the ninth,
heavy coke-bottle glass and names,
gave way to new sight
I could poke into my eyes every morning.
but still the nose
I wasn’t born with,
I said, ruined by spectacles so early on.
Fingers in mirrors trying to undo
the done, see,
this is what I’m meant to look like.
but now I see pictures
of daddy looking away,
profiles of a man
with perfect sight.
and I see a bridge
between him
and I.
Fingers in a mirror,
tapping a line, see,
this is what I look like.

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I am a writer and photographer (look up my work on based in Johannesburg, South Africa. I have an MA in Creative Writing from the university currently known as Rhodes. My writing accolades include winning the 2014 Writivism Short Story Prize and the 2020 Ingrid Jonker Poetry Prize for my debut collection, Zikr.

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