die winterwind
my kleine
my agtergeblewene
jasmynbedruipte skedel
beskryf ons skaduwee teen die klip
teen die wand is ons
een
maar jou wond
bly spieëlend as ek
apart
na jou kyk
vanuit die geur van jou diepste arm
7.
the winter wind
my littlest
my leftbehind
jasmine-draped skull
describes our shadow against the stone
against the wall we are
one
but your wound
keeps reflecting if I
look at you
separately
from inside the scent of your deepest arm
