Kitchen in my religion

Hands deep in the communal water
Love, the kitchen cupboards, dishes
Piled up again to live out my religion

My feet and my heart, compassion
How comforting the steaming kettle
Whistling my life pressures away

Naked before all of my confessions
I now wipe the table clear of dirt
Breathe hymns into the soft season.

Copyright © Nomzi Kumalo, 2014.

Blue is the quietest colour

I can hardly breathe for the love
When light makes our skin so real
Scars and marks I won’t recognise
I have no want to join such details

Many tones of blue before dawn
The colouring of regret and hope
Blue ink drenched all the surfaces
To soften the stretch marks of life

Curling up into this our ordinary
I can now smell the quiet of you
Hearing that love can’t get closer
For love is sleeping outside of me

Your skin now glowing blue milk
I do forgive you, I do forgive you
I reach out to celebrate your body
Make you witness your choices.

Copyright © Nomzi Kumalo, 2014.