[tabs tab1=”Poem” tab2=”Poet Bio”]
[tab id=1]Hona le nako eo lerato le iphang matla (There is a time when love strengthens itself)
When a rough accent that is otherwise interpreted as being unappetising just grows this physique and drips with the right touch of masculinity and proper chiselled arms and you can’t help yourself but be drawn to it, where you allow yourself to be enveloped by it.
When a single sentence sounds like angels are singing and the gates of heaven have opened with every mouthful of words.
Hona le nako eo lerato le tsoang taolong (There is a time when love goes out of control)
When a simple walk or glance or smile gets you shivering as though cold water has been poured down your spine. When you lose all cognition and motor functions as well as the slightest sense of reason and can’t help yourself but have your legs give in on you as you drool over what can be defined as “sex on a stick” where you then find yourself in a puddle of your own self because this person turns bones to mush with a single glance.
Hona le nako eo lerato le iketsang ts’upa linaoeng (There is a time when love becomes a nuisance)
When your brain forgets how to create words and your lips and tongue forget basic function and you are unable to fathom a simple response to a question, when he asks, “U ntse u phela joang?” (How are you?), it’s the roll of his “j” the slithering “s” that is conjoined with a “t” at the tee when his tongue seems to be holding a golf club about to be swung and have your thoughts scattered all around you where you find yourself too weak to pick up a simple “Ke ntse ke ikela” (I am okay) instead you blabber something unheard off, something foreign, something that sounds like German when your brain goes into high voltage drive attempting to make sense of why its falling apart at the simple smile of a human being.
Hona le nako eo lerato le lekang tumelo (There is a time when love betrays your faith) but because you are already falling apart at the seams when this person brushes your wrist with an attempt to calm you, it can’t get any worse than telling him how you are putty in his hands at the mere smell of his cologne[/tab]
[tab id=2]This poet is a traveller, a lover of life, nature, living on the edge, appreciating the mere pleasure of existence. This poet is still making sense of her own identity because she grows with every single experience and is discovering whom she is every waking day.