Woke at 3AM
to the windows

beating

against chest,

the bricks shifting

under rib cage.
Only it was the earth moving.
I was hoping

for Duende.

—

It is what happens when you fall asleep with a writing assignment on the brain. Dreams of duende manifest into the earth twitching and leaping in Jo’burg South early this morning. Did it wake you too?

Prayer

I seek you out
in the cradles of hands
between the creased ditches
and the padded mounds.

My thumbs are search parties
covered in prophets’ ink
rubbing through piles
on prayer mats.

In a palmful of Joburg snow
children see you clearly.