Waking to Jurassic sounds
of crows above the banyan trees,
the distant hawking, spitting, radios
switched on, a hundred stereo TVs,
our bodies afloat in underwater light
and the night a foreign country, this
is how we learn each other, half-asleep,
in a language that invents itself
again at dawn, sometimes remembers itself,
sometimes forgets, and surprises us,
calling out at windows we have left wide open.
