ghosts
Ghosts float across these lines
sour-faced shadows
float across this house
white as the night
heavy with dust
and the scent of rain
Ghosts swallow smiles
gnaw at my lines
mouths full of teeth.
the colour of drought
When she arrive, she wear disguise:
her face covered with bandana
yellow dress swinging in evening breeze
yellow dress clinging to skin
You would think she is festival queen
The way she moving in the breeze
Everybody come look
because they never see a woman tall so
and proud so wearing the sun in her skin
You ask her to wine her hips
and you play music,
beating the drums deep into the night
So she dance for you,
twisting her hips
loosening the yellow
revealing nakedness
the colour of terracotta
and yet she getting hotter still
wearing the sun in her smile
You feel like is fire inside you
a fire twisting you insides into ash
a fire that sucking the earth beneath you dry
But you watch her dancing
still mesmerized by her nakedness
or was it the sunlight in her yellow dress?
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