Night of Nights

By Brandon Marlon
 

From across the overcrowded bazaar I glimpse

the exquisite girl with the mole near her mouth;

the longer I stare the less I remember

who or where I intend to be.

As she slips by me, a whiff of jessamine

charms me from a discount stall of brass lamps

in time to witness the expiring pangs of twilight.

Steering through mobs drooling over bargains,

I trace the scent to a frowzy coffeehouse

with arabesques on granite floors and mirrors on the walls,

its air fragrant with cardamom and mint,

congested with smoke rings puffed from hookah buffs.

An abrupt hush falls as the storyteller appears,

cloaked like a ghoul in his beige galabiyah,

accompanied by a houri or desert mirage,

her limbs rattling with silver wristlets and auric toe rings,

her bare midriff undulating like Mediterranean waves,

entrancing a roomful of slack-jawed desirers.

Moistening with the sweat of desperation,

I wait till she glances my way from those almond eyes,

a flash evanescent yet lovesome,

the momentous instant when I notice a crescent eyelash

dangling then falling beside her mole,

a waning moon coupling with a lonesome sun.

 

*

Brandon Marlon is a writer from Ottawa, Canada. He received his B.A. in Drama & English from the University of Toronto and his M.A. in English from the University of Victoria. His poetry was awarded the Harry Hoyt Lacey Prize in Poetry (Fall 2015), and his writing has been published in 185+ publications in 25 countries. www.brandonmarlon.com.

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