You are not free if you fail to see
lustre that turns an eye of light, fire
that reawakens life. And who can say
what these diamonds in my tresses are for?
I’ve been to the Congo and back—like
a living stone—but these nations are blunt
with mystery that no reason should seek,
or even need, beyond what people want.
I get into and out of every man’s life
through my vortex of love, as one by one
people hear hooves galloping on their roof,
dream after dream, until night is time gone,
upon a storm-filled horse, riding it high.
Until even death begins to wonder why.
Rethabile Masilo is a Mosotho poet living in France. He is the author of Things That Are Silent (Pindrop Press, 2012) and has placed poems in several magazines. He blogs at Poéfrika and co-edits Canopic Jar. Recently Rethabile has been reading on a weekly basis at Spoken Word in Paris (au café Chat Noir) and on invitation at Poets-Live (at Carr’s) in Paris.