Uneven Worlds Poem by Mazwi Sedibe

Eye to eye
we didn't see.
Hand in hand
we couldn't walk.
Soul to soul
we couldn't dance.

We both had pride.
She is now a lonely bride.
She had wavering doubts.
And I gradually died of the droughts.

She had celestial steps
when I came holding a young Baphomet.
She was terrified of the past.
And I "could not beg her enough"
to be comfortable with the present.

She didn't like the flowers that
I bought for her, they weathered just
before she could accept them from my hand.
If only I could change the past,
I would strike everything broken with my restoration wand.

"I" but two eyes see.
We could barely hold hands,
how can one expect us to talk the same talk?
Our conflicted souls were the reason we dance
the same dance, but on different flaws.