Dear Mutsa

I heard you have a broken soul.

But when I look at you I don’t see it.

I picture you now behind closed eyes

Listening to your golden voice over

The sound of an acoustic guitar.

Do you get scared sometimes

When you cant find the words to describe how you feel?

When the truth stares at you in black and white?

The skeletons from your closet have etched

their truths in the pages of

your diary bone by bone

So you run back and forth in panic

when it’s almost missing.

you know pages will turn

to dust before the bones

Exposing your secret truths

Sooner than later, do you still  get scared?

I still remember the first time I saw you

Dancing in the arms of a stranger

I thought to myself

“Dynamite comes in small packages”

Your eyes surrounded by laugh lines

In a single giggle.

You’re voice filled the room,

And I thought ‘wordsmith’

What strength you must have!

Those words were too heavy

To carry the weight upon your shoulders

But you walked with your head held high

Red lipstick, a handbag and attitude.

Diana, what colour is your rainbow?

Is there a pot of gold at the end

Or a box filled with letters you never sent

And poetry we have never heard?

Is there a river that never runs dry

From your rainbow to your pen

Is that why you always write in colour?

Painting beautiful portraits when you recite poetry

Do your finger tips ever go numb

From gripping your pen as you write?

Do drops of salty liquid sometimes fall

From the holes in your soul that we call tear ducts,

Do you breathe faster when you write?

Picking words that sound sweet

Beads of sweat forming on your forehead

As you come face to face with yourself

Getting lost in the labyrinth that is your mind

where do your words come from?

Is there a parallel world in this universe you know of?

Filled with books written by you, to you.

What dimension do you dream in?

Is your landscape filled with mystical creatures?

I heard you’re not afraid of love…

How do you mend your broken soul?

Your pools look undisturbed

I look into your eyes and they glow

Even in pictures, they are alive

Speaking to me in Morse’s code of twinkling light

That never fades. Dear Diana

I picture you now behind closed eyes

Listening to your golden voice over

The sound of an acoustic guitar.

I heard you have a broken soul.

But when I listen to you I don’t hear it.

Come away with me

Read your heart skipped a few beats

Lost track of its pace and had to restart.

I hope you love the new rhythm

Learn to sing in time to it

Lets day dream together

I’ll bring the paint you bring the paint brushes

We’ll paint the town tonight

And when morning comes

We’ll look back and smile

As we write in our diaries.

I hide your name in folded pages

Of my poetry book

Just to remind myself that

Beautiful words can come from

Beautiful people whom I

Personally know.

I listen to Rae Lyric

When it seems the sun

Refuses to rise, and the ink

from my pen wont flow.

I tell myself it’s too dark anyway

But you teach me that writing in the dark

Comes naturally for those born with pens

That scribbled love letters to their

Mothers whilst still in their womb.

You’re a dose of sunlight

Not too much to complain,

Just enough to feel on dimpled cheeks.

To stroll under in a park, sit and roll diary pages,

with green secrets hidden neatly.

I’m learning to write with my eyes closed

in a world we have both been to before

we are not blacking out

Just blotting out distractions

So come away with me

Come dine with me

Lunch in Paris and supper in Costa Rica

We’ll sip on sweet red wine

Exchange tales of our journey

And make plans to have them overlap

At poetry shows and karaoke nights :p

Just new memories

To remind us of our past.

I heard you are not afraid to love

Read your heart skipped a few beats lately

Lost track of its pace and had to restart.

I hope you love the new rhythm

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