I could hear the voices

in the after bedtime darkness

but I couldn't quite make out

their smoke-embedded

words, nor catch the drift

of the deep-hued sentences

not meant

for me.

They were  distant signals

from another world,

spoken in a language

that was still largely

Mayan to me,

harbingers of the times

I would be speaking

in tones of reminiscence

or cynical bitterness

or casual eroticism,

sending out my own

mysterious messages

to other open-mouthed

listeners.