By Tshediso Seroki
I can smell rust and blood thick on the shores, Waves commit suicide at every writhe. When black bodies come to form water breaks its innocence leaving trails on thighs of time.
I heard a man called Jesus walked on water, and turned water into wine.
What bullshit is that? When black bodies lose jobs they drown in debt, or somewhere in a shebeen.
I hear how water is an element of life…
Sad how many black lives lost their names deep at sea.
It’s not that I hate learning how to swim, Spirits of my elders stick on my skin and my bones become heavy and my lungs are stuffed with sand.