They are happy
He makes her sandwiches
She gets to smell his crisp scent, of nourishing nothingness
He gives her neck-kisses in the morning, tells her she is loved, he loves her and wishes her a great day
She gets to take him in
She gets to be filled by him, to be full of him
She gets to absorb to consume to suck to taste to swallow
She does not thirst
She has him
She gets to have him
She gets to wake up with him, to him
She gets calls at midday about the lunch she should have been around to enjoy with him; he would have fed her; let her have his potatoes;
She gets texts in the afternoon about the evening’s plans: will we stay in and cuddle or go out and hold hands?
She has him
My boyfriend has a girlfriend and he told me so, matter of factly; slotted in between one meaningless word and more meaningless phrase, he slotted it in
my girlfriend…
The echo of death
The death of hope; the death of a future
The death of Sundays of oats and green tea in bed
Saturdays of markets and art and the books which we love to read on top of each other and to each other
Mondays of dreaded separation
The death of kids who are delirious with love, raised by a strong woman and kind man, complete children, children who are loved, who are enough
my girlfriend
The obliterating echo that says: there is no space for you
There is no space there is no heart there is no love for you and your silliness, your simplicity, your awkwardness
I do not want you
my girlfriend
The echo which says: no
The echo which says: not you
The echo which says I already have better I already have more I have chosen
I don’t want you
My girlfriend
I am owned I belong to someone my lips are branded my heart contained; Shezi, stay away.
My girlfriend
My boyfriend has a girlfriend and I have the million ways in which I have dissected and analysed his every hello
The memory of the time he said: hello stranger and made me feel like he had thought of nothing but me between the last time and this time
I have the billion ways in which my friends have had to describe the way that he looks at me (when he’s not looking); the billion ways they have had to lie, to embellish, to soothe
I have the looks which I saw as winks
I have regrets for the time when I gave him cold hugs when inside I was dying to wrap my soul around him
I have the awkward moments when I was insulting instead of warm
I have lost opportunities, when I should have been brave but chose to be proud, chose to be fearful
I have the times when I misunderstood; when I saw more than there was; when I built dreams on misdirected hope
I have the indifference which I thought was interest
I have a collection of wet dainties for every time that he has ever said hello or smiled or looked in my direction
I have wet neck creases and tear-marked cheeks
My boyfriend has a girlfriend and I have hopes and wishes and longing and pining and a craving for a taste that I have never had
My boyfriend has a girlfriend and I have nothing
because my boyfriend is not even my boyfriend, just someone I thought would be, could be, wanted to be
I have a crush
My boyfriend is a crush
Writer: Nonfundo Shezi