Okavango

Under a dark sky stained with streetlight

On a townhouse rooftop caked in dust

With underpriced warm deli beers in hand

Your little frame nestled in my shaking arms

This is a January stream in the Okavango plain

And when two hands meet and the eyes do just the same

This is the tickle when you whisper in my ear

This is the hill we climbed before we disappeared

Down the ladder, creak through the front door

No one but the cat to catch us here