There are jacaranda flowers ablaze
and the sidewalk mood to my home is violet again
summer in south Africa is tinged with such
jealousy of cloud laden longings
shades heavy in the partings of your hair
and eyelashes that bend down in a
whisper
on a red tiled roof of my neighborhood
moment
for today is only a day
that i own
with you
wistful caresses of
a guilt
and slumber
at the far end
of a dusty-noon
and grime on your face
of aches
and yet another
distance.
