Heks Seuntjie
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Ons ken vir Heks Seuntjie van Twitter af. Sy bio gaan so: “lil’ queer writer boy riding rickety broomsticks down the wine aisle”. Needless to say is sy tong skerp en on point. Gaan loer na sy Tweets, hier. In elkgeval, die Heks Seuntjie swot Engelse literatuur by UCT en ons het hom gevra of hy nie wou deel word van Klyntji se groeiende digkuns-versameling nie. Hy wou. Dames en Here, Rowallan Vorster.


Pretty Boy

I AM A TERROR NOW
spilling love letters into cauldron
riding your words into pallid clouds like
rickety broomsticks

I AM A TERROR NOW, bitter
and boiling, boiling and bitter
volcanic chuckles, sweetness
I put the sick
In love-sick.

Lucifer’s fallen, what chance do I have
Pretty boy didn’t like him that way, this way, anyway
thought you’d find
these empty gashes on my back
charming

you made me like this
after all

words like a subway station: they linger
underneath
silent bruises, kissing hexes into
my greedy skin;
my body: passport, stamped:

I know where you’ve been.

I AM A TERROR NOW
Witch-boy, spawn of Lilith
and your salt-circles cannot keep me out
keep me in
keep me.


Kingdoms

I find my shy fingers clumsily tracing your braille-brain,
stumbling across cobblestone roads, wondering
whether you have done something at all
like this before. We have built cities

crumbling with every clay-mould, sitting opposite each other like children
with castles whispering around our candyfloss coloured-knees; erect watch-towers
which cannot possibly stand
against the persistent sigh of your curious breath, and I wonder

aloud of fairy tales and knights, as you say, my god, look-
I have built you fountains. Monuments and libraries:
words perhaps too small to read.

We communicate through little green soldiers: I do not know
why my words must be spit out through gun-holes or brightened
through flame, but you say it’s dark where you are and
I cannot tell whether my messengers have delivered the right letters;
you mentioned how your fingertips could smudge out meanings to look
like something other than understanding.

I recall the first time we got coffee together, or was it the last-
you said you were somewhat self-destructive:
Prove it.