Summer solstice in a dark
Basement kava bar.
An army of drums
Rolling my brain around
In an intoxicated blur.
There are things no one understands
Hiding in me.
Things
Made of a foreign Fiji beverage
That makes your tongue numb.
Hanging glass tubes
Filled with feathers and herbs.
A bar,
A traditional toast,
A friendly conversation.
I hide myself
In the blue walls,
Mimic the gold designs
Until I disappear.
It’s hard to be anywhere,
Hard to forget,
But I’m here.
