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Going home after work

a poem by Rethabile Masilo

· Poems

She walks along the edges of a metro platform
as the train pulls in. I consider pushing her—

but the mind being what a mind is, I think
of the children she’s likely to have, of how
she will look at their faces and smile at them
when the weather is right for such a mood,
the husband she will spend Saturday mornings
in bed with, how like lock and key they could fit,
their bodies curled like yin-yang teardrops.

She will love the way he moans, his hands
learning her. And because I understand this
I don’t push her.
Somewhere in the back
of my mind an image, someone pushing Einstein
to his death, had stopped me, before I wondered
a pair of buttocks such as these must feel like.

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