Self Is- by Sibulelo Manamatela

Sibulelo Manamatela | January 22nd, 2020 | poetry | No Comments


the winning lottery numbers
meat stuck between teeth
the perfect shade of nail polish

i do not know
i dig & cannot pluck
i cannot pick

the right words to say i love you
an arms length away
a thorn in a rose bush

finds you before you can pick
that which you

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