on how strange things can remind me of things.
like packing materials for today’s lessons and being hit by
that new toy plastic smell.
on how that smell is linked to my Tshepang. on how the toy that etched that memory in me, was the last toy
she received before her passing.
on how her last days; her passing; the memories we hold onto; i hold onto
have shaped so much of myself since then.
on how her birthday- on how her passing day too comes up soon.
on how i’m reminded by that link to that smell; of Frankie; of Snowy; of how i can no
longer attach emotionally to animals:
understand i’m aware and can acknowledge how cute and fluffy and wantable a pet- a pup is
but i cannot see myself loving it.
on how this isn’t a René Magritte.