Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2017
To Anda

Meet me like a toddler.

Stop it with your assumptions and meet me like a toddler.

Eyes still unsure about the ultraviolet of the sun.
Nose still in constant awe of the sewage and the roses and the lavender and the nothingness of glass.
Feet still wandering the touch of grass, pokes and cushions and hides and grows still. Wonderful.

Ears still inexperienced in the world filled with things to see and scents to smell, roads to walk.

And at the first sound of another toddlers voice.

A brand new sensation all to-get-her.

Attention. Even with all of the stimuli that surround him, altogether, he gathers the focus to see her eyes silent in the light of the sun, and her nose flare in the tranquil of the cheap smell of grape before the cellar and her limbs mute in preparation for her next move.

"Hi, I'm..."

And all at once.

The sound of her voice nothing like anything on earth.

- T Masekela
Thando Masekela
Written by
Thando Masekela  South Africa
(South Africa)   
361
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems