RM| Untitled

I’m losing myself in white spaces.

I’m one black stripe on a white zebra.

One white zebra with one black stripe

In a herd of all-white zebras.

I’m a dripping teabag over a cup of milk.

But I only have one drop,

And that I have already spent.

I’m a very weak cup of tea.

I’m the token black.

Last week a boy called John

Told me that I have the kind of beauty

That in the African paradigm of beauty

Would be considered beautiful.

I’m beautiful for a black girl.

I’m Fabulous. I’m Sassy.

I’m Galfrend.

I’m “you don’t know that song?”

I’m “I’m blacker than you are.”

But I’m really Brenda Fassie.

I’m the Madonna of the Townships.

I’m Vulindlela and Qongqothwane.

I’m Miriam Makeba.

I want to call flip flops mapatapata

And traffic lights robots.

I’m Zimbabwean.

I sometimes think English

And speak Shona

But I don’t know that song.

And you’re not blacker than me.

P.S.

While you were trading

Racist Sickipedia jokes

I painted the zebra black.

I left one white stripe on its belly.

It might also interest you to know

That I’m beautiful.

In all paradigms.

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