by SUWILANJI NAMUSAMBA

Dear Future Ntwenukané

As I started writing this 

I already decided that I won’t call it 

To My Future Husband 

Husband sounds so...basic. 

That’s not what I want from you. 

So, I’ll find a better word 

or leave it as future…

That explanation above 

already tells you some things 

about me, 

but let’s get you ready 

for the madness in store.

I have spent years becoming me. 

Perfecting my don’t give a shit 

Realigning my principles and values. 

I’m not looking for someone to complete me. 

I come whole. 

And when I’m with you, 

I hope that you will understand 

that I’m here to be a partner, 

not a therapist, 

or fixer. 

I’m not looking for that 

from you either.

I love to cook nshima at 3am after a night out. 

You’ll find me cleaning up at stupid o’clock, 

because I can’t stand dirty dishes in the sink. 

I love making and keeping my space beautiful, 

I’ll add 1000 new scatter cushions to the collection if you don’t stop me. 

It will be our space,

wherever we are, 

and I’ll never stop 

wanting to create a haven 

that we can wake up in daily, 

have rap and hip-hop karaoke nights,

 and on cold days nestle in the womb of the pillow forts we’ll build. 

My mind is an ever-active 

hub of activity. 

I will never stop telling you 

what goes on in there. 

The ideas for books I want to write, 

exploring how to overcome my fear of heights, 

plans to achieve what’s on my vision board, 

the pains of my past that I’m working on in therapy. 

It all tends to just spill out. 

I love exploring the great outdoors, travelling to new destinations. 

The journey is always just as exciting for me as the place I’ll arrive at.

Walking down cobbled streets looking for an open cafe in a sleepy town. 

Hiking in a forest when my wifi is off and I don’t have Google maps to guide me, as a safety net.

Staring up at skyscrapers taking in the noise of a big city,  as I look for that burger place a girl I met in Seychelles once recommended. Closing my eyes and taking in the sound of a speedboat kissing the water as it speeds towards a hidden island where a candle-lit dinner awaits.

I want all my senses to take in every new experience 

I hope you do too. 

I hope you’re ready for the adventures 

#challengeaccepted. 

We will try new things a lot. 

I can guarantee that, 

though sometimes I’ll need 

a gentle nudge and go on from you, 

to help me be brave.

We all come with a past, 

and I’ll tell you all about mine. 

I pray that I never use it against you, 

or to justify bad behaviour. 

I don’t tell you this

to make you feel sorry for me 

or prepare you for a minefield. 

I have healed from most scars 

and I’m working on what’s left 

of the pain. 

understand 

that I trust that you being here 

means you will not 

leave wounds in your wake.

I love to read, but I rarely choose what books, I sort of let them come to me.

I love to learn about people and places, history, how things are made, there’s no end to the weird things you’ll find in my Google searches. My mind is a curious hub.

My taste in music is definitely eclectic, you’ll find out just how much in due course. 

Visual art makes me so emotional, but you’ll have a hard time pulling me away. 

Photography makes my heart so happy, but I struggle sometimes, finding that balance between capturing moments and just soaking up and living in them. 

I get so excited 

when I see people 

expressing and enjoying 

their creativity. 

I can’t wait to explore 

what’s in that mind of yours.

*

Temptation

licked my door today.

stuck out its tongue and

for a second, I saw the tip

of that hungry 

beast’s desire

peek in the gap.

I need to get a

draft blocker,

something to keep

the gusts of winter out,

or just wrap this duvet

tighter around me.

surely these nights are

what 13 tog was 

made for?

the door is still locked.

I don’t have to let it in,

but I shouldn’t have 

let my mind wander off.

the memory of 

my hand on that 

doorknob had me

covering my mouth

to smother

the sharp intake of

breath.

the cold against

the heat of my

hand

clasping, 

firmly holding, 

turning,

letting the wild in.

but the thought 

of trying to let

the dogs out

when you turn your

isle of solitude into

a menagerie...

not today.

*

Pierced Skin

Today it’s a black and white polka dot dress.

Monochrome May, my favorite month,

but this dress is not working.

I’m a size 10

and she’s throwing a size 16 over my head.

A pin to cinch it all in the right places

and- “ouch”.

I felt that.

Be careful. 

I’m leaning too far

and she hasn’t noticed.

I still have the scratches on my shoulder

from last week’s fall.

The duct tape in my inner thigh

from the time she tried

to get my leg

into a pair of size S jeans

so I get taken out of the front window

when it’s lingerie week.

That thigh has felt too much pain,

so many hands.

Can she see

that my head is leaning to one side?

I’m so, so tired,

how can she not notice

that I’m ready to just

lay down in the backroom

and have my body used

as spare parts for another beauty. 

I stopped being whole

the day I arrived

and was taken out of the box.

There’s a crack that only I can feel,

just under my left arm.

But they never leave my side

so no one ever notices.

The half-smile pasted on my face

has never left.

Stop.

Drop.

Roll.

Head dizzy.

She quickly puts it back in place

waiting for the click.

Another day.

Dark,

light,

black,

white.

Dress me

only to undress me

in broad daylight

when someone wants

what I have.

Nothing is ever mine

for long

but I’m longing

for something

to call my own.

I’m ready

to call

the darkness

my home. 

*

Closure

I knew I no longer cared 

when I didn’t* write a poem about it.

*couldn’t

*

Stored in a Cruel Dark Place

I wore more makeup last night to

cover

The sunburn so that I could spend

More time discussing the things that mattered

Rather than divert the conversation with people 

Debating my changed complexion.

I spoke 

softer

On the phone so that I didn’t sound aggressive even if 

My cadence and VOLUME are simply 

Passion and excitement

I wouldn’t want to scare the listener away,

Would I?

I did my nails shorter this time

Acrylics down to a length that doesn’t make me sound so 

Angry

When I’m typing 

“Kind regards” on my keyboard.

I donned jeans and a t-shirt in the 

heat

Of summer because my sundress shows off 

My tattoos and too much skin

We wouldn’t want the men’s eyes

To be distracted at the church barbecue

That just wouldn’t do.

I took down my favourite painting

Because the curves of the woman depicted might 

D i s t r a c t

the visitors (spelt intruders) from the serious matters 

They came to my haven to ventilate.

I was told that this self-expression in ink wasn’t quite right

Because it didn’t have enough artfulness

To it, didn’t fit a style, they 

WANTED.

Sonnet, limerick, elegy? I forget.

Something to make it stand out from

The rest.

I wrote it anyway, and I hope 

That this is the beginning of me doing things 

I 

Do

With me in mind and not

A version that’s rehearsed

Trying so hard to be: 

Poignant

Amusing

Lively 

Enchanting…

I wrote the words on a clean page 

So that in the words 

E s c a p i n g 

My mind in whatever 

hApHazard way it all rushed 

OUT

Maybe I too could be 

freed.