Oribim Briggs

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Oribim Briggs
Wednesday 22 May 2024


i cut through the course to where our paths a picturesque smear of colour floods cross.

curt temporary litterings of time:

click, click; i tick tick my goodbyes and break my ties for to come to court you.

you are with me like a waterside coterie of naked boys laughing hard and idly after a close shave with drowning: a most sweetest grave love affair;

it is the riverine symphony of mangroves and mudskippers, of canoes and semi-clad paddlers, of the river sombrero when a thousand canoes go a fishing with your air in their nostrils.

all this talk is paradise i am trying hard to weave of you with words--the way you repose; the delicacy of your watery soul; the way you shake me with your wind; the hips of your banks curved roundedly like the full moon.

i see you and long breathe, sniffing the scent of your native air, with closed eyes, on an abandoned jetty, on my own; i see visions. i see visions--i do not speak of a place but of you, my love. i look upon my inspiratress with focus and my heart blossoms with words.


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