Kaizer M. Nyatsumba

on their own
they look like
sheep on a precipice:
meaningless
unimportant
and vulnerable

but shepherd them
cull them carefully
adorn and string them
together
and they will sing

words
are like our bodies:
denuded or attired in tatters
they prick
sharper than thorns
they pierce
like a scorned mistress’s tongue
and shame
their utterer
but draped in fineries
they soothe festering wounds
revive broken hearts
smell sweeter than incense
and compliment
their source

so clothe them presentably,
my brother
dust and wrap them
graciously
pick and match them
tenderly
with finesse
for words well chosen
are more precious
than diamonds