A chorus of piano, trumpet and timbale laughter

breaks and rolls free at the feet of the multitude, in a building of two stories

sitting squat under

the lightning storm flashing her bright blue eyes by the windows

hitting up high

the double accents of the congas

her taunt, white impatience

strikes

and makes thick

the night air

 

cool rain running 

heavy

down the open arms of the city

she holds her head bowed and covered in a curtain of black hair

 

swayed by a slow and heady summer breeze

 

sighing a soft insistent

hush-hush

 

along the descent 

to the pavement

to the skin.