catharsis

under our bed,
I find a greying photograph of the woman you loved
and still love on mornings like this

place it on the mantelpiece for you to inspect
give you a chance to feign ignorance

at midday we separate

it was inevitable, it seems

you, having rolled out of the chrysalis of uncertainty
I, having disentangled myself
from a night-mare that was not mine

now I know

what the knife-wielder
held against her frame
in my dreams each night
was no common blade –

it was you
your body

always so close to her skin
always so red
yet it was always I that bled
———————–

caesurae for the cessation of blood

you, at the breakfast table / my heart on a platter
words make good skewers / you, a horrid partner
surgeon hands killer eyes / I am yours to plunder

offering basket for a body / cadaver your carnival
cause of death: unknown / add lies to the arsenal

don’t clap at my funeral
please sir, I did not mean / to exit at the interval
———————–
Poetry © Nkateko Masinga
Photo by Derek Torsani on Unsplash (modified)