I Know This Woman

I hate the world.

Especially when I find myself

In an office on a hot afternoon

 

This is not my cup of tea.

I am busy talking to people I couldn’t care less about;

About shit nobody cares about.

 

Then in walks this woman.

This mysterious

Brown skinned,

Brown eyed,

Brown haired woman whom everyone laughs at

And calls a pump because everyone has pumped her.

 

I like her

But because I like being cool more,

I laugh with the rest of the assholes.

 

But I’m sinking inside

Because mama didn’t bring me up to be an asshole.

 

I’m locked alone in the bathroom,

Slapping myself hard across my face.

The image in the mirror looking back at me is alien.

Why did I laugh?

 

I can see her smile.

I can see her beauty.

I can see her glistening skin.

I can feel her touch.

I know this woman.

 

Why did I laugh just to fit in with people I don’t care about?

I decide to apologize to her.

So I slam the bathroom door hard after me

I run along the corridor towards her welcoming arms.

She understands.

 

Everyone in the class has been through her.

She doesn’t discriminate.

Guys,

Ladies,

Muscled,

Skinny,

Light,

Dark,

Tall,

Short…

She is the pump,

The nymphomaniac with whom I’m in love

 

But I try hard to hide it from everyone else.

Guys who want to appear cool

Try not to fall in love with women

Whom everyone has ‘eaten’.

And if they do,

They don’t shout it from rooftops.

It just isn’t cool.

 

I’ve been pushing her to go for a drive with me and today she agrees.

Hand in hand,

Waists rubbing,

We head for the car and off we go.

 

She likes the speed,

She craves it.

Her hand touches mine on the wheel

Her foot presses down harder on mine on the accelerator.

 

We are fast approaching a cliff.

If we don’t take the bend,

We’ll topple off.

 

It’s just us in the whole world.

 

I can see her smile.

I can see her beauty.

I can see her glistening skin.

I can feel her touch.

I know this woman.

 

We don’t speak,

But we communicate.

 

I take her hand in mine.

The fuel pedal hits the floor.

My hands leave the wheel.

My eyes leave the road and settle on her.

 

I can see her smile.

I can see her beauty.

I can see her glistening skin.

I can feel her touch.

I know this woman.

 

Wind on my face,

Smile on my lips – the sweet scent of beckoning angels.

I’m going to spend eternity with her.

This poem is about: 
My community
My country
Our world

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741