Coffee in Tunisia

 The smoke from my cigarette unravels its way 

 along the cracks of the blue door.  bouncing off 

 the top hinge and evanescing into the sunlight 

 creating a perfectly straight line on the upper half of the stone building.  

 The shade from our cafe umbrella

 prolongs my beginning of the day.  

 All along the sea.     

 What day is it i ask. your words serenade "Il est aujourd'hui"

 and so i surrender to your symphony of spinning articulating. 

 I listen intently without moving my eyes.   

 A German matron mutters something boring

 and laughs a little to blatantly.

 Harassing the sound of your French smiling 

 off the tip of your tongue.  

 speaking poetically and so elegantly.

 I glance at the red lipstick 

 on the rim of your cup.

 I cant help but notice how you turn it in circles 

 when you talk and you smile for every other word.  

 It mimics my passion, kissing each sip of coffee.   

 I take a chance through the diamond shapes through the metal table. 

 as you shift from one leg to another,

 smooth shimmer of olive skin below your knee.

 It is spiritual, your beauty.  

 It creatively brings me closer to the sky.  

 I turn into a Tunisian moon higher than the desert floor.  

 Watching down on earth and the dunes of sand,

 enticing and touching the wind.

 un autre univers opened just in time. 

 I awoke with my eyes wide to musique

 below my hostel window.