When we were black women,
we used to walk this rich land
with abundance on our lips
warmth woven in our grip,
rhythm pulsing in our hips
and viewed the world through sun-kissed eyelids.
When we were black women,
our crowns mirrored pride rather than disgust
our bodies belonged to us
our hearts were soaked in trust
our brothers would kill to protect us.
Now, the Earth orbits anti-clockwise
we see bullets rather than birds fly
not in the end of days but during femicide
because a black woman is born a crime.
Now, we mine for black women in a boyfriend's backyard
inside the boot of taxis and cars,
at playgrounds and children's parks
behind 'kwa-next door' after dark.
Like water, our emancipation is fluid
filling the cracks of an unjust society
'enough' loses its strength in OUR vocabulary
because once, we visited the president at his residency,
changed our minds when it came to sexuality,
wore our clothes a little too tightly,
proceeded to smile whilst flirting,
had the nerve to ignore the cat-calling
and being labelled as a 'bitch who loves back chatting'.
When we were black women,
our OPTIONS became critical life choices
of how to survive and stay alive.