photo by Alex Lear

snapshot: dawn in dar es salaam

our intimacy is as subtle as the mottled shade of shell colors 

on a warm basket of cayenne scented boiled crabs 

or, more likely, the faint hint of spearmint tea 

silently seeping while your attention is turned 

to spreading the beige soft of cashew butter across 

the crisp of one slice of toasted sourdough

which innocently rests near the dark 

of seeded unsugared strawberry jam freshly smeared 

atop the face of the bread’s twin — quiet contentment 

is morning within our colorful kitchen where we are 

as gaily nude as the golden gleam of early light

streaming through our window diagonally impressing

a translucent tattoo onto both the half sphere of your breast 

& the upraised arm of my hand reaching to caress

—kalamu ya salaam