Dusk is the groom
in robes of scarlet.
We save our small change
to mirror his splendor
with our homemade lamps.
Some are sardine tins,
and some, emptied cans
of evaporated milk.
Yet, with a wick and kerosene,
a small flame of blue and gold
emerges from our homemade lamps.
Sunset smells of kerosene poured
and rings with the cries of the schoolboys
who sell it.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s