Waiting on the dusty stoop
Of a little hotel by the sea
A rotation of Senegali youth
Take turns keeping me company
Face still smarting from slaps
Head still pounding from drinks
Belly still full from laughs on our stroll
Before our talk revealed our different paths
Sun still setting on the edge of the world
The panicing Atlantic keeps kicking up dust
My new friends console me, but they know they can't hold me
And invite me back in for their drugs
These Senegali men have seen this before
The harsh realities of a man come apart
On a lover's lane, where lovers still wait
In vain, for their lovers who never return
No comments:
Post a Comment