tropical nights
i love you
my friends in this tropical nights.
the drums
run,
the
prickling guitar and the girl shouts
or whispers
softly,
undressing in
the wooden palace,
built over
hundred years.
all seeping
into my heart like warm sugared alcohol.
tropical
nights.
the drums
do click clack,
no one
sleeps tonight,
no one.
smell of burned insects,
poor light-
junkies.
shirts
sticking to bodies, heated by ... what?
tropical
nights.
the drums
whisper SCH, SCH,
like mummy
did
to calm me
down.
a snake of
light guides to a hidden grove,
forgotten
place.
disruption
to the harvested fields, to the thoughts of my daddy.
tropical
nights.
the drum is
silent,
everybody
waits anxiously,
for the
first shimmering.
vicious
insects fleeing from the inexorable burning sun
and the
white cat asks:
what are
you after, in my sweet blackest night?
tropical
nights.
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