DITW 

Tanatswa Mushonga

We read the book of myths and have the selfies to prove it:

Wearing healed scars from lacerated arms.

The armour we donned as we trekked down into the deep, flawed now, yet it

clings to

skin like Sins of the father

We did this on our own

No Jacques and Co.

Me, myself, and I

Alone.

There was no ladder, no schooner,

There was no instrument of direction

There was no sign, but the water gleamed with a divine invitation

My ancestors at the bottom calling for a reunion

Going overboard needs no introduction

Our feet followed the voice of home and in we

Dove

Deeper my body fell

The light from the surface touching ghosts underneath

Figments of versions of what the deep would be

Vanish

My human flesh couldn't withstand the pressure

Consciousness and lucidity getting lesser

The sea refuted my form

The sea demanded I be reborn

Ventilated and breathing

My legs were no more

Arms turned to fins

Lungs to Gills,

My skeleton mirrored twin fish in the sky

Who knew why we came down here?

Was it to be renewed or to be free

Or both

It took a minute or three to get comfortable in your new skin,

You (we) could swim now but, where to?

The book of myths was only that, myths!

Getting acquainted with new milieu

Requires use of new information

This was always the place.

Beneath the eager glaring eyes from above

Far from patriarchal penetrative probes

Chanced with James Cameron kinda leisure

Roving and searching, a deluge of truth beginning to appear

And even then: it was easy to forget

why we ended up married to the seafloor

among the many who called the caliginous blue home

And just ‘cause you're one a dem’

Doesn't mean there are no sharks circlin’

The thing I came for

was never clear from the start

Smeared fragments of heart

I, me, her, him

Us

Me,

Navigated spaces that our bodies couldn’t breathe (nor our eyes could see)

We were the resurrected abomination of the deep

And courage sometimes was born of necessity

We who found a way

Map out the scene back to our authentic aquatic selves

We left the fictitious tales on the seafloor

Emerging with a blade, wearing sleek, rugged amphibious (skin) terrain

Biography

Tanatswa Mushonga is an emerging performance artist and poet from Zimbabwe. He spent three years in school in Jamaica and also calls the Bahamas home. He has been a performer of poetry since grade school and is working on an EP in hip hop genres.

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