Yes my love, let us pitch the tent
and smoke that kif for a few
starry nights up the High Atlas...
Your skin redolent of Saharan
sands, an African moon mirrored
in your eyes.... Kisses that burn
with noon-sun ... a fire for the cool
nights -the shadow-flames
dance to our love song, caresses
not smooth, but thrilling with
sand grains, rough.
If we only could...
we would go my love,
for a few starry nights...