One Night in Singapore

One Night in Singapore

The humidity of the summer evening

glazed my face with sweat and it glistened,

with the setting sun. Tears formed on my beer,

they traced tiny lines down the cold bottle

and pooled on the bar. It reminded me

of the night; I spent with her, below

the Tropic of Cancer.

I can still remember the embrace

of the warm night air, the smell

of zhuójǐn wàndàilán orchids

and I can still see the girl, the one

that haunts me on the long nights

of winter. She gave me a look across

the crowded bar, as much a dare

as a come hither stare. Those gilt edged

brown eyes that pierced the room

like needle and silk through wounded flesh.

She was beautiful and kissed me

without saying hello; her lips a sweet

and decadent champagne that I drank

until intoxicated. Her skin was a playground,

fragrant and salty on my tongue. We tussled

in the sand for hours until she pinned me down

with a smile. The night was quiet and still

save for the breeze playing with her hair.

I could feel her flesh part and for the first time

I understood her vulnerability. She was both

courtesan and concubine and she gave herself

completely. I took her by the throat and loved her

until she surrendered with a shutter and a sigh.

SMG