We lay on our backs, side to side, On the cool cement terrace. I am scanning the moon For old childhood lullabies:

“Mama Moon don’t forget to come up tonight On the horizon. As you slowly climb that hill On your starry cart bring my baby a song, A sweet sweet jasmine scented song.”

Your arm touches mine and your fingers Touch the back of my palm, touching A strong undercurrent of joy that flows in my still sea of marked sorrow.

Gusting wind brings with it music Now of a piano, now of a cello And then a woman’s voice on the radio waves, jazz surfing in from New Orleans.

“Your body too is one such jazz improvisation, Played on a gypsy’s guitar”, I say this to you And you laugh. A mouthful of ivory picks Strum the night air and make the moon wobble

Tell me how did we come to this place? This stillness that is broken now only When you laugh at me or touch me Just, just like that, just as you now did!

2003:06:01 00:05 atl A poem for no one.