I Fell In Love With My Body When I Gave It To You That Night ... 27th October 2009

“ I fell in love with my body when I gave it to you that night … ”

He touched me and I began to tremble, emotions evoking an inability to utter words,
My heart pulsating as he engaged in recreating the word’s of an incite lover as he spoke softly into my ear,
I bit my lip in anticipation as he gently stroked them with his gripping tongue allowing for sporadic moments of sensual nibbling,
His lips so gentle and tender served to be an instrumental essence in the art of foreplay,
He kissed my inner thighs, kissed the small of my back and voyaged all the way up to the weaknesses of my neck,
He revolved my body, took a hold of it and placed it above his body as if the two were enduring as one,
The sweat on my forehead found itself trickling down my body and onto his chest, pelvic bone and collecting within his navel,
I leaned forward to pace myself when he held me tightly pressing my chest against his and with one hand at the base of my rear,
He elevated our bodies and accentuated every part of my vulnerability with very little attempt,
We exploded and our bodies now crippled and controlled by the inevitable need to release,
Our bodies now vigorously reduced to an unfathomable, quivering mass of sexual goo,
We lay quietly and I, serenely on his chest as our bodies subliminally prepared themselves for what would ensue,
And as the night came to an end, he consigned his lips to my forehead and told me that I was everything he had ever imagined me to be …

Masked Pain ... 29th October 2009

“ Masked Pain …” – Zoleka Mandela

Her head is surrendered and wedged from years of apprehensiveness;
disgrace and emotional ill-treatment.
Her wrinkles on her face are significant of her personal combat;
travelling violently across her unrecognizable features.
Her words escaping from her mouth;
are severe, unheard and exceedingly unmentionable.
Her back remains hunched and paralyzed;
with life’s deficiencies and gaping lesions.
Her heart is hemorrhaged and lacerated;
by previous counterparts and failed associations.
Her womb is barren and blemished;
by forced gratifications and the malevolence of others.
Her life remains consumed by an eternal despondency and grievance,
trampled by a fuelled injustice . . .

When Love Meets You In Pain ... 15th March 2010

When love meets you in pain ... By Zoleka Mandela - March 2010

At times I can hardly breathe, thoughts of you seem to immobilize me more now than ever. I am consumed by you ...
I think I may have fallen for you. You see, I didn't realize this until we parted.

Each time I lay at night, I stare at your picture for hours trying to imagine what you would feel like laying right next to me.
I'd close my eyes really hard ...

If you were here, I would get lost in your embrace how you would hold me tightly and press your warm lips on my forehead sending shivers down my spine.
I'd swear our hearts were falling in love with each other right that second ... We held each other so close. I didn't know where my body ended and where yours began.

For a second, you'd lift my head up to yours; look in my eyes and make me promise that I would find my way to you in the end and before I wake. I'm dreaming that someday ... I will be with you.

I wonder what your love would feel like? Is it the captivating kind that heals an injured heart? The type to make mine skip a beat and then smile, smile as if it were the very first time it felt love?

"I want you more now than ever," you'll whisper in my ear as you would kiss my forehead, my eyes, my nose, my cheecks and my chin ... my neck and until you found your way back to my engorged lips. You would submerge your finger in your glass of wine and trace the words, "I adore you," on my lips; right before your lips met with mine for the very first time.
"You taste so good," you would say ... "I should really make you mine!"

Do you know how much I have missed you? I want to live in your world and I want you in mine. I open my eyes and I am crying because I realize that you are no longer laying next to me.
I realize that I may have left a part of me with you ... Or has a part of me escaped my body and found itself with you. Is it in you? Do you only have to look inside yourself only to find me there and when you're missing me the most? I am now a part of you and you of mine.

I think back to the time we parted. We held each other and said our goodbyes, I couldn't bring myself to look back; and as I drove away I could no longer hold back my tears. I knew I had left a part of me with you and that I were leaving with yours.

Touch me here, kiss me here, love me here, feel me here and miss me here ... It is here, right here in my heart where you will forever remain.

Love In The Summer ... 18th March 2010

It would be nice to feel the sand underneath my feet with you. I would love to go horseback riding while I hold onto you tightly and take in the aroma of a summer's day at the beach. We'd take long walks on the shore, watch the sunset together. You could write, "I LOVE YOU, BABY!" on the moist sand or feel the cool breeze and crashing waves compete for your undivided attention. We could kiss underneath the moonlight and go skinny dipping at midnight, just you and I ... How you would be my favourite pastime this summer ...

Foreplay Fever ... 6th April 2010

"Foreplay fever ..." - By Zoleka Mandela.

Butterfly kisses on the small of her back, he nibbles on her neck and bottom lip. She is blindfolded and can smell the red rose petals she feels on the bed. He whispers in her ear and she can almost feel the hairs on her back rise. She can feel the warmth of his voice, it sends tingles up and down her spine. "This is how we're going to do this, tonight," he says as he traces every inch of her body with his honey coated fingertips. He takes a sip of wine from her navel and somehow it finds itself all over her body. Her body now his, she has no control over. Drips of candlewax upon her back are followed by moist kisses and bodyoil. He looks into her eyes for what feels like hours while she got lost in his. "Can you feel my heartbeat?" he asks, she holds onto him even tighter; afraid that she might explode at any given second. He places soft kisses all over her body, from her feet to the very top of her head. He kisses her lips and slowly carasses her body, each stroke causing her to let out a moan. "I think you're ready," he says as he smiles. His touch does not allow her to find the words to speak, she can no longer breathe. Her body begins to pulsate as she further loses control. He laughs as she trembles, knowing that he was the cause of her curled up toes and racing heartbeat. A tear trickles down the corner of her eye as he kisses it away. He slowly places his ... ** To Be Continued ... **

Untitled ... 11th July 2005

Woman ...
You carry life's tribulations and false impressions
On your shoulders, heavy with dissatisaction
Back arched, your limp leaves a sequence of bad choices and foolishness
You are so quick to charge
That which you do not desire in relation to yourself
Continues to stare you in the face
A reflection of yourself, you choose to conceal
In your injury, you've shifted the blame
Inyour melancholy, you drown
You cry the tears of woman who on the sly
Cry by night and smile the smiles of fresh mothers
Longing for the status of those whose lives He's touched
Yet you do not seek and desire His direction
He has caught your tears ... and He carries your continuation
For your life, remains his enduring equation

What once escorted her misplaced ways and sunken sentiment
Lives now, a woman in the course of action
She lay beside her spawn
Heart clenched, thankfull because she knows Him
From the words tht drip off her tongue
To the lives around her that manufacture and attach each unit of her nucleus
To the reconstruction of her demeanor
She is, the coming of herself
She is, where she needs to be
It is at his request, that her life follows his design
For she was chosen, countless times over

Rise, my sister ... Rise
For you are a fusion of unbroken blessings, for you are of the essence
Let your energy rise to fill the hearts that hold you up
For you are a diamond
Shine your significance and radiate the light of your rebirth
Dance to her beat for her melody echoes his arrival
Her rythmn, an indication of self adoration and indebtedness
Look at all that is around her ...

It is time to stand up ...

Stalked On Your Love ... 12th May 2010

STALKED on YOUR love .. " - Written by Zoleka Mandela for 2010.

I spend most of my days imagining what I would learn to love the most about you. Would it be how you sip your morning coffee sitting across from me at our breakfast table or would it be that you would still open a door for me even after I have upset you. No, I think it would be how no man would ever seize to exist in any room if you were in it too.

Sometimes I swear it was the smell of your cologne which left me immobilized when you walked past me in isle 3 of the supermarket coincidentally located a block from your place. You never use a trolley, always just one basket with five items at the most.

I watch you sharing a laugh or two with your friends over a few drinks at the local bar, I know your favourite drink and how you sip your whiskey when you're enjoying it the most. You sit on the same chair on a Thursday night, because you think it has the best view.

I almost followed you home last Friday when your car pulled up to mine on my right at the traffic lights, did you notice the string of cars behind me honking their horns as I watched you drive off? I thought you'd be driving your sport's car, you took me by surprise.

The store where you buy your cufflings has moved one level up. Ofcourse, it was me who told you as I knew you hadn't realised when you approached the store. You were on your phone talking to your PA, Lindsey by the way ... When you held your right hand to your forehead.

I didn't check your trash to the right of your house but you should consider using the the shredder your business partner bought you for Christmas last year. You're scheduled to leave next week for Brazil with your friends and I can't have that happen!

Do you not remember what happened to your last date? I bet you didn't know she was allergic to the pine nuts and strawberries I sent to her. She really should have been more careful, I didn't force down the strawberry shortcake and pesto sauce down her throat. I didn't leave any finger prints so they can't link me to you.

You sleep on the same side of your bed, I know this because I've recently bought a place near you. Did you know that our bedrooms face each other. You're running out of bodywash but that one should last you until tomorrow.

Don't be too alarmed if you hear a noise downstairs, I hope you don't mind that I made myself a copy of your house key. There's no turning back now, I'm making my way upstairs. The door opens and you're alarmed to see me, why?

We've been through too much together although we've never met. It's time I did something about us being together and forever because if I can't have you then no one else can ...

The Subject Of Young Love ... 12th May 2010

The SUBJECT of young LOVE ... Written by Zoleka Mandela for 2010.

Can't we go back to HIGHSCHOOL just so we can do this all over again ...

First period, we were in AFRIKAANS you whispered, "Ek is lief vir jou." in my ear when the teacher wasn't looking.
It was in ENGLISH where you professed your love for me as Romeo did for Juliet. I'd let you Capulet my Verona in due time.
In GEOGRAPHY, your hands found themselves underneathe my skirt, I pushed your hands away, smiled and asked you what you knew of the Ozone Layer?
It was only in BIOLOGY, where we burnt calories in just kissing. I wanted to learn more about condensation.
In HISTORY, we shared our past and kept just a little distance. You became the ruler of my world.
It was in PHYSICAL EDUCATION where we got closer again, I sat on your back whilst you did push ups. You told me you were getting ready to fight the world for me.
In ART, I doodled our names on each page of my journal and entertained the idea of body chocolate paint or letting you do my potrait.
It was in MATHEMATICS, that we were going to go higher grade on our love. Me + You = Love.
Last period and we're in SCIENCE, the hypothesis would remain ... keeping this up may lead to 4th base.
School is now over and it's time to for our extramural ... Let's skip dribbling balls and sign up for baseball, you'll be on my team if you know how to hold your bat ...

Put A Move On My Love ... 13 May 2010

"Put a move on my love ..." - Written by Zoleka Mandela for 2010.

I sat in a chair pretending not to realize that half of the women in the room had now been led to the dancefloor.
Instead, my eyes swept from one corner to the next whilst I sipped on my last cocktail.
I bit into my cherry and took another sip of my glass, grabbed my purse and fixed my dress.
I let out a sigh and checked if I hadn't left anything else behind.
"I think you're forgetting me." said a voice,
"Are you leaving already?" he asked me.
I turned around and before I could utter a word, he held my hand and with his other, placed my belongings on the table.
"I've been watching you from across the room, I've been waiting all night to ask you for just one dance?" he brushed the hairs of his chin and said, "I was kinda hoping you would save the best for last?"
He led me to the dancefloor, gave me a smile and said, "I want to glide on this cloud with you."
He pulled me closer towards him and held my waist so tightly, I could've burst.
I place my arms around his neck and we slow danced cheeck to cheeck.
I could smell his cologne on his collar, it complimented his aftershave.
My body followed his lead and my heart beat inbetween his.
And as we swayed and moved to the music, I felt my body more at ease.
I held him tightly, hoping that holding him even tighter would make the music last even longer.
I closed my eyes and he his, this song would forever remain ours.
"It would kill me if I didn't tell you that you felt even better than I thought you would," he said.
He kissed my forehead and brushed his finger across my lips.
I opened my eyes and we were the only ones dancing, dancing to our song.
"I have to leave, it's getting late." I told him.
He held me once again, held my chin and looked at me, "I wish you would stay just a little longer? He whispered.
I freed myself from his embrace, looked back and told him, Thank you for my dance."
Although we may never see each other again ...
I had taken all of this man in, what he felt like, what he smelled like, what he sounded like ...
And for just those few minutes, this man was mine ... And I, all his woman!

A Kiss At The Eiffel Tower ... 14th May 2010

A kiss at the Eiffel Tower ... Written by Zoleka Mandela.

They would meet at the Eiffel tower, it would change one night in Paris.

He watched her from a distance, counting the number of times she licked her lips.
It seemed as if her lips spoke so many words, words only meant for his.
She wore a red coat identical to the red roses he carried and she adjusted her curls, right after checking her make-up.
He loved to watch her, even the night's stars and moon could not compete.
She was entirely beautiful to watch, even Picasso could never capture such beauty.
She looked around and glanced at her wrist watch, she had just landed in Paris and hadn't realised that her wrist watch was on the wrong time.
He wore a black and white berett, a grey sued coat and black slacks.
Their eyes met and they walked towards each other.
She looked down to compose herself and looked up to see him smiling at her.
It felt as if her heart escaped her body, she wondered whether he could tell how nervous she was.
He held her hand in his, kissed his thumb and placed it on her hand.
She took in the warm and sweet fragrance of the red roses while he gently took a hold of her hand and led her to a cordoned area.
There were rose petals scattered on the floor, thirty one candles surroundig them, a bottle of champagne and strawberry filled champagne flutes.
He poured the champagne and she was mesmerized by the bubbles surrounding the strawberries.
She felt as if she were the strawberries in the glasses and he the tiny bubbles lifting her up from the bottom of the glass.
They took a sip of their champage, the bubbles filled their mouths.
He took their glasses and placed them on the ledge.
Reached out for her hand and pulled her closer towards him.
His other hand, he placed on her waist.
Their heads moved towards each other, he held her cheek and brought her lips closer to his.
She breathed heavily as he began kissing her forehead.
He kissed her eyes, kissed her cheeks, kissed her nose and kissed her chin.
The clock struck midnight, they closed their eyes and they kissed.
They kissed for what felt like hours.
He kissed her many times over, she could not help but melt in his arms.
There's never been such a perfect fit like the locking of a lover's first kiss ...

I Love You, I Do ... 15th May 2010

“I love you, I do ...” Written by Zoleka Mandela for 2010.

I quickly sat up on the bed when I heard the shower door open.
Loosened the silk sheet covering my body and ran my fingers through my weave.
It had been a very long night but I felt a million times lighter this morning.
I rested my chin on my palm and drummed my fingers on my knee, I couldn’t help but smile.
I watched him cut off the water and reach for the shower door.
The steam from the hot water clung to his body while tiny water beads rolled down and made a puddle on the bathroom floor.
What is it about this man that I love so much, “Damn,” that is all mine ... I should pinch myself.
We met five years ago at a friend’s wedding, we danced for what felt like hours.
I still remember it as if it were yesterday, I’ll never forget that that evening.
Five years later and this man is even more handsome than when I first laid eyes on me.
I noticed how water was still trickling down his body, he prefers to air dry.
Naturally, I prefer to watch him.
How can any man look so incredibly sexy brushing his teeth?
I watch him doing push ups on the bedroom floor and it's enough to make me go crazy.
I’m still so in love with him.
I still get butterflies in my stomach each time he walks into a room.
Did I mention how he makes my entire body tingle with just his words.
The water on his greying beard makes it glisten, I am beaming.
I should’ve joined him in the shower but we both know what that always leads to. I laugh.
I want to kiss off all that water, I think to myself.
I can’t get enough of him.
He walks into the room, humming the tune to the song he composed for our fifth anniversary last year.
“So when are you having my babies, Seven?” I smile.
He gave the nickname when we were in Italy years back, the number of times he had me screaming his name out loud in just one hour.
We almost got caught on the plane ride to Spain.
“You say that every morning when you wake me up,” I say.
“No, I tell you that I love you and I want you to have my babies,” he laughs.
“What would you like for breakfast, baby?” I ask him.
“I could put something together for you.”
“That’s okay, mamma,” he kisses me on the forehead and hands me his palm oil.
I sit by the edge of the bed and I look at his ungreased body as he stands in front of me.
Oh my, does he really expect me to behave.
I look up and he’s smiling.
"Again, Seven?" he giggles.
"I love you woman, I do." he says.
He kisses me and nibbles on my lip.
"So damn good," he says.
He sits down right next to me and turns around.
“Baby, can you start with my back today?”
He lays on his stomach and climb onto of him.
I would actually prefer his body wrapped all over me, to hell with the silk sheets.
I grab the bottle of palm oil on the bed, shake it up and squeeze some onto his back.
“I need to ask you something, baby?” he says.
“Ask away, baby!” I answer.
I placed my hands on his back, “Oh, my God!” I yell.
“When did you, how did you?” I ask.
I leap off the bed, he turns around, stands up and gets on one knee.
The engagement ring on my finger was the exact duplicate of the one I drew years ago.
"I had it custom made for my baby." he says.
Tears trickle down my cheeks.
"I love you so much," he says and a tear trickles down his left cheeck.
“Will you marry me, baby?”

My Timeless Love ... 21 May 2010

"My timeless love ..." - Written by Zoleka Mandela.

He finally called me, I almost fell of my chair when I heard him on the other end of my phone.
It took him long enough to call me.
"Hey, beautiful." he said.
"I've been away on business for a week, I should have called."
"Give me two seconds, I'll be back in a second," I say.
I fan my face with my hand.
"Oh, my God," I whispered to myself so that he could not hear me.
Okay, let me compose myself.
"Sorry abou that, I thought I had another call," I lied.
"Listen, I would love to chat with you longer but I'll need to get back to work and speak to you later, you hear," he says.
Why did he call me in the first place?
What happened to having drinks or dinner?
Doorbell.
I should probably get it.
"I understand, I need to sort out a few things over here anyway," I say.
Damn.
"Is that your doorbell?" he says.
"What did you say?" I ask him.
I heard what he asked me, why did I just ask him that?
"There's someone at the door, babe," I say.
"Speak to you later, beautiful," he says and hangs up.
I rush downstairs.
"I'm coming, hold your horses," I say.
I don't feel like cooking today.
Chicken Korma, basmati rice for take out sounds great.
Maybe I should treat myself with fried nine oysters as a starter.
I open my fron door after adjusting my gown, I had taken off my clothes when I got home.
"May I help you?" I ask.
"Delivery for No. 143, Brettan Road," the delivery man says.
"Please sign here, Ma'am," he says.
Ma'am, do I really look that old?
He hands me a bouquet of sunflowers and the most prettiest box with a red ribbon.
"Is that for me?" I ask.
Rhetorical question.
"Yes ma'am, it is." he says.
Stop with the ma'am thing already!
I sign and give him the biggest smile.
"Thank you, kind sir," I say.
What a lousy English accent I have.
I place the box on my coffee table and stare at my flowers.
The card reads, "If only I coud have but a minute of your time, I'm hoping this will last a lifetime ..."
My heart melts just in two seconds.
I open the box, it took me a while.
It is so pretty I should take a picture and paint it later.
The card in the box reads, "You're the best part about coming back. Picking you up at 7pm. I can't wait to see you!
A dimond encrusted, white and gold watch enscribed, "For all the times you made me smile each TIME that I thought about you ..."
His mother has raised him well.
I start crying.
He's just made me so happy.
My mascara is not waterproof.
What times is it?
"I gotta get ready, he'll be here in two hours," I say to myself.
I put the sunflowers in water, grab the box and rush upstairs.
I would rather take a bath, I hate to have to shave amnd scrub in the shower.
Extra bubble bath, bath oil, bath salt, Kenny G in the background, incense, body scrub, my shaver and my facial products.
I took my TIME preparing myself for this man.
Once I was through with applying my make-up; straightening and curling my hair, I rushed to my bedroom to decide on what to wear.
My red and black teddy with my favourite pair of stilettos felt great.
This is killer.
I put on my black cocktail dress and squirt my perfume all over my hair and body.
Doorbell.
My heart is racing.
I grab my red pashmina and black clutch bag before heading out my bedroom door.
Doorbell again.
"I'll be there just now," I say.
I walk downstair, take one last look at my mirror near my staircase and open the door ...