She always hated me.
Us.
She always hated us
Comparing one to the other
Unfavourably
Distastefully
Despairingly
Wishing we were other than what we were
Other than what we are
That she could divorce herself
Skillfully
Surgically
Permanently
From at least the half … of us
She equated us with the worst.
In her mind we were the least
worthy.
The least beautiful.
The least powerful.
When she looked in the mirror
with laser precision
her gaze would excise our parts.
The parts of us which came together
holding from her vision that priz-ed thigh gap
that slender straight map signalling to the world:
more
desirable
lovely
perfect
more good.
Much time has passed now
We have taken her to places that, as a child, she never dreamed she’d be welcome. Yet welcomed she was and joyfully so.
We have transported and propelled her
on land, in the air and most recently … flying through the water
with powerful mastery.
She could not fathom life without us.
She dreads the loss of us.
She learns to transmute the hate she once felt into a something new.
In front of the mirror
She is sure to linger a few seconds longer
than is comfortable.
She states (almost academically) that she no longer hates us because hate does not form part of her world view.
Over our sins she runs slim fingers lightly then firmly, unbelievingly acknowledging our reality.
From her mouth like teeth she spits soothing words
As to a baby who will Not. Stop. Crying:
I am perfect.
I am worthy.
I am beautiful.
I am innocent.
It’s going to be alright.
She spits these words till she holds in her hands a vision might come from Above
She no longer feels she hates us but she can not as yet call it love.
Zolani Mahola
2021
*me and my miraculous limbs about to dive into the freezing welcoming sea