Lighted Island

My lighted island, Hidden somewhere behind the red rocks, Somewhere between the jingling of bangles As I reach out to you. My lighted island, Lies behind the rusted walls of the blue city, Among the trembling of my long earrings. My lighted island, Winks at me from the colors of the bustling market, I find it in the strong scent of fish, In the muffled noise that swallows us whole. My island, Is the color of my skirt’s folds in the wind, Imaginative as a dance, And warm as mint tea.