my naels byt ek met 'n
ritmiese onsekerheid
die sweet korrel tussen my
borste
ek is vlugteling uit
die stad van Woord
ek deins met onafgemete
tree
val oor ongelykhede in die
kobbelstrate
tuur terug oor die afstand
van my vlug
my lot, my lot!
Woord lê in puin
my tong verklip tot
stilt...
refugee
i bite my nails with a rhythmical uncertainty
the sweat beads between my breasts
i am a refugee from the city of Word
i stumble with unmeasured steps
trip over the unevenness of the cobbled streets
i gaze back over the distance of my flight
my fate, my fate!
Word lies in ruins
my tongue petrifies to silen...
refugee
i bite my nails with a rhythmical uncertainty
the sweat beads between my breasts
i am a refugee from the city of Word
i stumble with unmeasured steps
trip over the unevenness of the cobbled streets
i gaze back over the distance of my flight
my fate, my fate!
Word lies in ruins
my tongue petrifies to silen...
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