“You don’t exist!”
she said.
She said it fervently.
She said she knew what she was talking about.
“What you really are…”
she continued.
And she explained.
And she tried to talk me out of existence.
“I mean…”
she explained,
“And furthermore…”
she continued,
“If you did exist,
what exactly would that look like?”
She laughed.
I read this when I came in from outside,
having been doing carpentry all morning.
If I were to exist…
I mean, hypothetically…
What would this look like?
And I pull my pants down,
and shake wood shavings out of my underwear.
So utterly mysterious.
How very mythical.
Inconceivable.
Charl Landsberg is a South African poet, musician, artist, and queer activist who lives in KwaZulu-Natal. Their work often focuses on feminism, queer rights, anti-racism, etc.