You are my morocco...


Enclosed in your room my mind
clouded Morocco – Sanded horizons
and deep heat pressed repeat and
tossed us through the night

and ever since those times
of a disguised routine
emerald fluid

I have been mapping my own path there

Where the language is strange
the air heavy with stares
the night low and warm and textured
with the rhythm that colours my blood

Rhythm that echoes ochre between her mountains
And lies as fine as flour on her planes

You are my mystique
You are my mould
You are my morocco
Image via


  1. did you write this? its great! so many feelings, colours, words... a bautiful start to my day : )

  2. Thank you Demie! Yes they are my words. Enjoy your day!


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