nevis
I inhale your sweet vodka
exhale while the breeze
wraps us in a blanketed warmth.
The sand feels softer
as the coals
warmth turns
it to sugary hair;
while the full, milky moon glows,
orange and blue halos
in through the woolen clouds.
Palm leaves oily sheen
split the moonlight like eyelashes
while they sway atop of their leggy
trunks. The hairy coconut clusters
defend their shaky grips.
Tinker-towns across the sea
of private investments and closed
accounts, dot the horizon with
street lights and shanties.
The chickens graze naively
in the trash laden backyards,
composted by rotten vegetables
and grass filled cow dung.
The vegetation is wild, what is
not pilfered by the monkeys is picked
by hand. There are altered
states of mind here, glowing
under the moons watchful eye.
Lazy vendettas permeate pupils,
you have been felt, vibed
by someone else. The westerner’s
illusion of ignorance is cradled
by the island’s inhabitants.