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Irresolute
It puzzled me that we sat there.

I, looking at your sexy brown eyes,

listening to you talk about
the woman you love: Agenda,

and brag about how beautiful,
wealthy and intelligent she is,

talk about how you gaze
through your office window
to look at her parents' beautiful home.
I wondered then whether truly you and I
were at the right place.
It puzzled me that you ignored me
even when I told you it caused me pain.

It puzzled me that you would say things to me
that I found to hurt,
or to confuse and
refused to explain.

"You are not simple." You said.

It puzzled me that you would remind me
to go to church as if telling me to leave for prayer.
As though the place we were was missing servitude!

It puzzled me that when I left you
alone for the one Saturday that I

paid for us to stay in Ginger City you
waited for me to call you
on the fifteenth day, the Juneteenth.

Yet then, even then, each of us
on opposite ends.
There was nothing between us.

Learn more about this author, VIctoria Sethunya.
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