Saturday, August 16, 2008

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.

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