Sisters

by Lebogang Mashile I see the wisdom of eternities in ample thighs belying their presence as adornments to the temples of my sisters old souls breath in the comfort of chocolate thickness that suffocates Africa’s angels who dance to the rhythm of the universe’s womb though they cannot feel its origins in their veins Blessed am I to be love in the temple of my own skin my nappy centre kisses the sun in a harmony divine devoid of the ugly that does not know this as God but the sons of oppression never gave sisters loaves to feed the hungry fury in their bellies nor did they teach them to fish for spirit So I pray to the voices that whisper in my soft curves for the lionesses of my blood to hear the songs of the cool reeds to feel the green blood beat of cataclysm on their breasts and to know the embrace of freedom in nourishing silences where their radiant ebony vessels are reflections of their souls