My brother is staying with me this week. Africa will always be in our blood. These are memories of our trip to Knysna and the Cape in 2012 just after our father died.
I'm missing the sea.
I'm missing Robin.
I'm missing the identity I owned
in all the years we were together.
Now I am stateless,
a foreigner
in my own life.
My passport out of date.
I can't find the language
to define
myself.
I travel my days
in a rudderless dinghy,
in a practical fashion.
It is sensible to
keep appointments
and buy green vegetables
and laugh sometimes.
But the water beneath the boat
is where I live
most of the time.
Dodging waves
seeking anchors.
Lost at sea.
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