Dark Light

from the balcony
i see new mango leaves
stir with the April morning,
the scrubbed first light sheathing
their green ochre bodies
as they polka dot
the black frock of night,

remember the window cleaner
with his long brush,
one stroke at a time
the backyard undressed
inside our room,
we laughed then,

but light is stronger in its absence,
the obsidian opaque clearer than its inversion,
everything it shrouds by day
is naked in the velvet murk,
your breath becomes the scent of moonlight,
your skin the colour of frangipani,
and my brown hand
looks so much darker
held tight in yours.

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29 thoughts on “Dark Light

  1. I love that phrase: ‘polka dot the black frock of night’!
    I also love:
    ‘your breath becomes the scent of moonlight,
    your skin the colour of frangipani,
    and my brown hand
    looks so much darker
    held tight in yours.’
    Now that’s poetry!

    Like

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