Two poets walk into a fire
unafraid – hands clasped together tight.
Engulfed, the flickering furnace flames
reflect in each of their eyes, a Light –
Two poets walk into a fire
and from their ashes cry a Birthed Poem –
Conceived in Creativities crucible
both the Birthing and the Birthed, arriving home.
A tentative creative that hopes to hail as a published poet in the days to come. South African from the uterus to our current date. A lower-middle-class working-class hero, working the salt mine, suckling the teat.
Who we are is in constant flux, but she likes to consider herself lamentably human.