‘That would be nice,’ you say,
So, we cross the quicksilver city.
We step, like tipsy teenagers,  
Into a basement of Kisii and Kikuyu,
Sunshine dresses
Swaying to the Benga music,
Like cruise ships.

Oh, exuberant one:  
The fire in your heart spills out sparks
As you spin and turn across the floor.
‘Dance for the children,’ you say,
‘Dance for the future’.

Magnificent Mercy,
With your intergalactic smile,
You make all the sense in the world.