That Time in Tangiers

Poem

by Naoise Hefferon

I remember falling into a k-hole
– you and I stuck together blind
two shrinky dinks melted into one another spinning
like a top

decay burns the back of my throat
and i open my eyes to see me
back in Tangiers but you’re gone

midday in the medina
vegetables grow fur
fruit rots in every stand and
juice
seeping into the street
cooks to a froth at the side of the road

here I know to slow walk
without purpose faced forward
no
eye contact
with the other gender
do as Muslim women do – i’m told

the weight
of my jelabah and the burden
of obedience force sweat to collect
in pin dots
above sun-swollen lips

sweet hot smoke pushed
out
of the mouths of men sidles up
snaking through the heat and the reek of the market

i shiver
nipples
cutting through the layers i have on because
i can’t keep myself
from throwing a raised eyebrow feeding
suggestive glances and fuck-me-eyes
to the ones i walk past

i – the westerner – the whore

while they suck on their teeth and
café damoiselle? and
vino tinto guapa? and

something under my sandal wretches
a small cough or a squeal but
between the men
and the men and the smells
and the men

i don’t see what it was or
maybe i’ve killed it
but the small thing throws me off
and i’m falling

backwards
all the men laughing so
all I can see is the sky
staring down at me shaking its head.