Paul Theroux writes about the soundtrack of Africa - it is not the trumpeting of elephants nor the roar of lions... it is the coo-cooing of the turtle dove. This soundtrack has followed me my whole life long, wherever I have lived. Lucky.
We laugh at the turtle doves flirting on the ridge of the roof. We don't wear shoes and sultry air sashays over bare skin.
There are no mirrors here - only the eyes of another.
There are no mirrors here - only the eyes of another.
We are building a secret vocabulary.
While I was away, the lilies died and the jacaranda burst into green.
Tonight we'll build a fire under the cooking moon.
I will make ice cream with mangoes and mint.
I will make ice cream with mangoes and mint.
2 comments:
Poetry or prose? Whatever it is, I LOVE it!
I myself am not sure... But thank you very much.
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