when sun-baked
Gaborone afternoons
touch this skin
it hazily recalls
fingertips
caressing
the slight membrane
of emotions
half-forgotten under
parched under layers
of Kgalagadi sand
This skin forecasts a moves
by Gaborone poets, priests and planners
to harness the sun to make rain
and not fritter days
raising heat about being
land-locked mind-locked
language-locked freedom-locked.
money-locked and love-locked
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