Phillipolis

“Dandruff on velvet”
you proclaimed, trying
to get a reaction as we
lay giggling on the blanket
beneath the mesmerising
Karoo night.

Too mellow on cactus
distillations that would be
illegal in most countries,
I just laughed and suggested
it was your turn to feed the fire.

With my eyes closed,
I heard you crunch
gingerly
across sun-roasted stone chips
and felt the heat-flare
on my face as the log caught.

On hearing your purr I
opened my eyes to see you
stretching
towards that same velvet,
tousled hair and nipples
silhouetted by the blaze
of the kameeldoring.

I watched you for a full minute
before returning to invent new
constellations