Rainbow

The Spaniard on my balcony,
smokes irregular laughs
and regular Marlboros
in a trembling-on-the-trampoline
try-me-out conversation

with a fresh fabulous face
from some other
unnamed nation,

delectably displayed
ebony curves inside
a bright crimson
cock-tease cocktail
mini dress,

too well dressed
for this occasion
buy why would we mind?

We who sit snuggled up
on the sofa inside,
cracking puns like dammit,
downing shots and potato chips
in equal amounts.
She, he, she...
        sparkle of opal
        golden black sea and smile
        shot flawless from crooked teeth
...all easy, honest faces
and blurry names to me.

But names are only gibberish
ungraspable phonetics
so exotic
it is all the same to me.

I'm better with faces anyway,
and a night like this
anyone might forget,
be forgiven
and given another glass.

A saturday night
in my neighborhood,
in my two room
and open windows
open doors carnival,

where korean Kitty
        not her name, but everyone's
        loving cat-call - and she purrs
squeals with laughter in the hallway,
attacked by ticking fingers
attached to blonde,
almost too blue eyed Peter,
        yes, that's his name
former Neo-Nazi converted,
like a fairy-tale,
by love to Jasmin
        olive skinned Syrian, dancing
        like tomorrow never mattered
who is not here anymore,
but moved east...

...like they always to
when xenophobia takes cold hold
of neighboring hearts.

And we raise our hands
        in so many hues
and bottles in a silent toast
to pray her back.

She will not be alone
and it will not be too late
this time.