We met on a street comprising four right angles while i was breaking coconuts at the crossroads of hope, praying for change and a visa.
With a mouth full of chiclets, your light was confirmation that the sun indeed rose in the East.
Your lips, tasting of tobacco and sea salt, turn every kiss into act of rebellion against reason.
Where have you been my love? The table has been set for years.
I imagined your body an undiscovered wilderness where upon my love will gently anchor, quietly..completely.
The warm waters and blue lagoons, a welcome a respite from the arduous journey. For fear of missing out I trek deeper into the darkness- there, an extra set of footprints, strange whispers in the wind, “halt”, a macaw quickly darts across the horizon, we are not alone on this island.
Ghosts of lovers past cling tightly to your heartstrings.
Passionate words stiffen, falling ineptly to the ground like stray arrows, Eros is not the marksman he once was at this advanced age.
The volcanic sands, shimmering unapologetically like obsidian, with the confidence and quiet dignity of timelessness, now smell of sulphur and tar. Seashells cackle at the moonlight, morphing into landmines of doubt.
A Paradise deferred, you are a beautiful danger.