Psalm 119

Psalm 119

This skin, a majestic canvas,
it draws all light in.
My hair is a forest,
feel free to get lost in it.
This nose, the dome,
I’m “feeling” it.

Busy, you mimic my accent,
when will you find your own?
Don’t tell me about Nicki Minaj,
Sarah Bartman’s been slaying since 1789.

You tell me I’m loud,
I can’t help it that I bridge miles .
“They’re always talking, always making noise!”
Yep. That’s right. Umntu ngumntu ngabantu.
“Hun, you look great but that bum…”
That’s ok, take a seat on it.

Keep the hate coming and you’ll find,
I’m as solid as the first time you tried to break me down.

Black is not going anywhere. After all this is black text on a white background, you’re reading it.

Aphiwe Ncgai