Ramalla R@*@

Crazy light and heat.
Humidity and music.
She traded like for like;
London for Ramalla.
Feeling:
thumping,
spinning,
drinking,
sinking,
trite.

Now, the broken bowl,
of night!

Prodigal friends,
(Whilst she in Cerulean
bright and blue as the sky
took flight,
by taxi cab perhaps or bike)
,Looked on,
too drunk to cry.