Monday, November 10, 2008

Maputo beachfront

That day we smelled the sea,
felt the rain,
and first spent half-an-hour
sipping sweet coffee
while amaZyoni huddled in
tight groups all along the beach.

Everyone was cold, you said:
the worshippers;
you; me.

Later, when you spoke of your latest lover,
I looked away beyond the cafe
at the coconut palms
being shaken by the wind,
and the salt spray
breaking on the wall,
all the while
wishing I could stop
the shaking that seemed
to clutch so tightly at my heart.

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