Standing In Our Truths Hands Of Ours Poem by Sarah Mkhonza

Just thinking about the past and its deeds,
I find myself standing right there in it,
Anytime I am standing in it, it speaks
out with a soft voice calling me back to it,
Come it says, come and just stand in me,
Then we will be two twins in our time,
My time, your time in the day time,
When our past is just being in the two of us.

Speak right there the message I have from you,
Right there where you open your hand,
Rubbing my palm with ticklish touching,
As the blood rushes back,
Taking back the truth to revealing endings.
Like the lines under my eyes which smile back,
With lines around my mouth agreeing with a shiver,
For I see in your eyes the quiet looking out of them,
Looking on and telling the truth of our wonderings
Saying search deep in me and go beyond the lines.
They have been seeping into them the sun,
Making my look as real as the sculpture,
Out near the road to the big forever ahead,
Which gapes at our looking with its openness,
For so real and so deep are our truths, hands of ours.