The zephyr of early dawn

The cool rays of evening sun is just blending into a point where twilight is about to happen. Birds are going home.
If there is one thing I learnt from my last love, it is staying true. He didn't speak so, but it is the only amalgam of his homecoming.

Arriving on a fluke into a dusty place called home.
It’s a rain forest and you can hear the bleating of germ.
Some nectar flies. Some birds, exoticise.
If you hold your breath long enough, a brook breaks into laughter.
If you release it, spring arrives.
The wind in hair makes trees shake in delight.

Your feet may be covered in sores, ant bites

Your shins epigraphed in thorn
But there is enough melancholy here to graze your throat, vanquishing the short thirsts on a long journey.

He came, wandering through the wilderness of his mind.
Wading through the talk barks of searching, and to understand. And when he sees me he knows we are to be partners in crime.
Well, up until a time.
I sit with his head on my lap. My hair covering my breasts. The wind flapping against us, whispering mimes.

Ah! the erotica of a finding mind.

He sucks onto raw, savage fruit. Its acrid taste renders his tongue insipid.
So we speak, in alternate.
He is prime in his urge to know. I am the same. We are twin soul.
There is a canoe in the distance sitting over rippling, gleaming moon but we have set assail. Not in it.

We settle our ears close to ruddy soil, thinking with our eyes.
The breeze caresses our goose pimpled fleshed skin.
The frogs start croaking from the black river behind

and when the fronds atop a very tall tree shiver we know our journey has come to an end.

He moves a distance. A shadow.
I move a step. A silhouette.
His nose makes a faint mountain against the ridge of his cheek.

We move away further.

My laugh lines are disappearing. It is dark.
I can sense the teeter on his little finger has stopped.

A crackling of jungle wood fires. Orange flecks soaring with desire.
It is the past that is changing her garments, every moment.

She refuses to stay quenched.

There is a blanket of hungry amber ...all over.