Out of Tangiers the fragrance followed.
A stack of letters bound with
a blue ribbon,
wait for the seeds of their thoughts to be
watered when their words are read.
Suits with ties and jackets unzipped.
The conversation moved onto paper with
broken pencils until 2am;
sleep can wait.
Cold water and a third floor shower.
Bare feet and peeling paint.
Pipes that rattle and a snoring dog.
A harmonica echoes past doors without locks.
Long earrings. Leather sandals.
Leftover cheese and crackers.
Windows open as smoke curls out,
and always a cat, always.
Roger Singer 