THE POWER OF THEIR LOOKS

ice cream is nice
I prefer to be on my own
I know no feminist agenda
Three tv women who talk Haval and Picanto
I know not the love of tv episodes known to be soapies
My only soapie is getting real in the morning
I have no time for weather forecasts
Where they speak of nothing, I know my muti works in their hearts
Belligerent girls who are not amused by them on their sides
These young girls have their thoughts in you only to leave you with endless questions
They carry bread on their heads
But immediately they are here at the Clinic
Only a nurse can tell what's going on
They are beautiful sangomas
Who move back or stand in the psychodelia and melancholia of their shacks or imijondolo
Their smell is inviting to a particular point and limit