Mocambique

Beads on the bottle of vinho verde,
a plate of prawns bathed in a heat of passion,
the fado singer keening softly--
reminding me
how much I still
and always
miss you.

Not that I knew you then,
those weekends spent
with friends
around the bay of Lourenco Marques.
But it seems as though
you were in my genes,
even then,
so long ago--
in another lifetime.

~Yvonne van Onselen.