I can look at you
now in this winter of the hashish fragrance of the chhatim tree
That is everywhere.
That has swept away the cotton smell of my mother
And the milky scent of my woman
And the spunky odour of the sea
That trails the dark women of my madness
I can look at you now
That the silk cotton tree is naked
And through its branches
I can see
your crystalline solitude.