I’ve gifted phones with gleaming screens,
Bright as the hopes of shared dreams.
Calls and texts a steady stream,
Building bridges in digital beams.
I paid for weaves, long and fine,
Braided strands like promises entwined.
Their glossy shine like vows I made,
While love like a shadow began to fade.
Education's price I covered whole,
Paid in full to feed the soul.
Books and lessons, pens and pages,
Investments meant to last through ages.
I furnished homes, set up the walls,
Answered every unspoken call.
Rentals set, keys turned with pride,
I built the dream; I set it wide.
Two hundred thousand Rands no small sum,
In hopes that true love would come.
Yet here I stand, gifts all given,
And wonder where that love has driven.
Was it worth the cost, the weight, the care?
Each iPhone new, each rented square?
Each weave like threads of a silent pledge,
Each rand spent, a tightened edge.
I gave, I gave with open hands,
And watched the love slip through like sand.
Every gift, each thoughtful deed,
A quiet prayer that love would feed.
Now I’m left with this silent doubt—
Do gifts make love, or leave it out?
Or is it that some gifts are spent,
Not in love’s name, but in lament?
Yet in my heart, a spark still glows,
A wish for something love bestows.
Not just gifts, but a bond to keep,
A love that’s rooted, strong, and deep.
A vow beyond the shiny things,
Beyond the phones, the worldly rings.
To find a love that wants me bare,
Not dressed in gifts, but hearts laid there.

© Thabiso Dube