KNEO MOKGOPA
Woundedness
People don't speak
Their woundedness does
It is woundedness
Woundedness that draws us to certain politics
Woundedness that joins us to our lovers
Woundedness that calls for our passions
The first wound
Is being separated from the womb
Is also our first act of violence against someone that we love
And the belly-button is our first, lifelong scar
The second wound
Is discovering that words will fail you
That pain is inexplicable
That we cannot tell someone how much it hurts
You cannot spell Impilo without Impi so forgive me when my wounds stain what you thought of me
There are many things I thought I had to do to survive
I am not clean
I am not clean
And I will forgive you, for being just as wounded