The Heart is a Lonely Hunter

I met her in a restaurant reading,
A plain act but one that corrupted my thoughts with interest.

‘Hey, what are you reading?’
‘The heart is a lonely hunter’
‘Good read that is, John singer amused me. Nkandu is my name’
‘Lerato, nice to meet you’

She extends her hand,
I look at the finely taken care of fingers,
Perfect for turning pages, I think.

I return the hand shake
And during the period that my hand, in hers, moves up and down-my eyes wander at the contours of her lips
I think- I should say more

I said more,
Spoke mainly about what I perceived were her interests.
She mentioned him,
I paid no attention.
A meeting later,
Then a date,
After which she became my mate.

She then said ‘Nkandu, we can’t do this no more’
‘Is it Katlego’
‘Yes’
‘But why?’
‘I do not know, this just feels evil’

And so my heart began to hunt on its own.