Yes Aunty, I want a man. I want to settle down and have all that you
have gone on about, but you see, I want a man that is like me; a
One that has been broken into many many pieces but has taken time to
look for each one and then glued what he found together again. A man
who knows how sweet life can be with a clarity that reveals itself at
the point you shatter. Shatter into so many pieces, big, small,
slivers, slivers stuck somewhere between twilight and dawn, pieces so
broken they cannot be fixed.
I want a man that has learnt to lean far back so those cracks do not
allow his very essence to seep out. I want to be the tender hand that
moves him to the next groove when, like a scratch on a vinyl record
with the pin stuck on, he falters, repeating that one line in his
I too have been shattered. I have used the glue carefully and
diligently, from afar and in dim light. You cannot see how much I have
mended, only he and others like him can see it, only he will have the
understanding to lift up my pin when I am stuck in the same verse.
Only he will know and with tenderness and kindness act as a wedge when
I lean so far back I become unbalanced for fear that my essence will
I want a man so humbled by his humanity that he is able to recognise
the same in me. Only he can love me the way I want to and deserve to
So Aunty, I want a man, but only a shattered one will do.