Chefchaouen

Contours of kif covered mountains carve the bruises on my knees
Waking sun pulls a clinging past through pine needles
They bury in the spine as the world’s children sleep.

To lay down and be embraced by the green
Tasting the jagged view
Narrows a tear eyed mind to the blur of peace in the mountains
Of Kasbahs where infants tease nectar out of morning fruit
Where business is traded with Salaam and handshake
Allowing the buzzing mirage, a cricket’s afternoon.

To melt the needles the twist. And black.
A black pure blanket pricked with stars smothering to sleep on a faded almond scent
Euphoric crescent of hip and breast golden alone of other sleep,

Other thought, other time
This night of mine.

Chefchaouen

Anisha Aiyappa

Halifax, United Kingdom

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Artwork Comments

  • Jo Fedora
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