I watched, mesmerized,
as she danced,
the lady from Gabu,
her lips moving slowly
her hips moving slowly
to the lyrics.
Our lines of vision
crossed. She looked
surprised, amused,
and walked towards me.
“Bailamos!”
Dusky brown,
light of step, smiling.
I said, sheepishly,
I´d try to keep up.
“You’ll do just fine.
“You are a good dancer,
but how is your Crioulu?”
You are a good liar.
My Crioulu is limited –
bu misti & ca tang.
“I want” and “I don´t have.”
“That´s a good start.
Spend 7 days & 7 nights with me
in Gabu and you will speak
um bom Crioulu.”
It seemed her feet
never touched
the floor. We danced
the night long.
I never returned to Gabu.
