Distant Dark Lover

What are you doing now, I wonder? Is the sun setting on your dusty horizon? Are children playing in your streets in the remaining minutes of daylight? Was I ever one of those children? Do you remember me? You call my name with the voice of my mother as though it were you who christened me. I can never escape your mystical fingers tangled in my hair. A welcomed parasite deeply burrowed in my skin. It’s your music I miss with its whistles and drums. The rhythm of life and crackling firewood. Sweet rain on your face. The taste of smoke and grape Fanta. Are you real? Did I imagine you? Did I sink my toes into your mud and pick your dirt out of my teeth? Did I speak your tongue and feel foreign in English? You will always be my lover, dark and handsome. I keep all your letters and one day when you are famous I will say, I knew you when. I knew you... When?

Heather A. 2/2007