Maybe you’re beautiful and like all of us, had fears
Maybe you picked the wrong mask, so we never saw
your face. Never saw the twinkle in your eye
that one time when Moroba came home
With her drawing of you wearing your best smile
a sticker on it saying Prize 1
We never saw the dried-up river of the ridges on your
forehead, those many nights when there was only pap
and sugar water for your little ones who would not eat
those little fishes. Their eyes daring them to try
Promising they’d make a pond out of their tummies
We never saw your eyes falling when you returned
from the market, with all your portraits unsold
Maybe you were tender like all of us
And when your mother came to hold you together
Maybe she knew the city wouldn’t
Maybe you were lonely like all of us
So you filled your time with empty time-lapses
of scripture reading
Maybe you too wanted God and He did what
God does—stayed up there and sprinkled little
miracles down for your picking
Corn for the bird of you, flightless and only yea big
Maybe you wanted to be loved like all of us did
Maybe you didn’t know how to say it without looking
undone. Maybe you were just trying to figure it out
like all of us. Maybe you could have taken off the mask
Maybe we could have seen each other
Phodiso Modirwa is a Motswana writer and poet with works appearing in adda Magazine, Guernica Magazine, Brittle Paper, Lolwe and in other literary magazines. She is a Fellow of the International Writing Program (IWP) and her chapbook, Speaking in Code, is published by Akashic Books as part of the New Generation African Poets Box Set: Tisa.
