billowing red silk stirred by the heated air
as if breathing each movement inhale, exhale they live
exposing glimpses of burnt umber walls
latticed wooden screens worn of stain and paint bleached weathered
shield the demonic sun
the blues and browns and rich oranges
mosaic lined the lower walls
in patterns as intricate as the geometry of a madman
flow together shapes too delicate to describe
one must run his hand along the tiles to experience them
colors beyond bold screaming in subtle voices
pillows in silks shimmer in the soft glow of the setting sun
greens verdant and alive, the olives deep as the spine of a snake
cobalt vases brimming with the stems of orange blossoms freshly cut, gifted from
the walled garden, with its center fountain art in itself the star created from
thousands of pieces of tile superbly assembled together as if by angels
echo the sweetness of the trickling water
can a sound describe a scent
in morocco anything is possible
my body too languid to move
my eyes and nose and ears are the traveller
my body no longer belongs to me
they seek that which pleases them
i am only the vessel they are the senses
marrakech the place they have desired forever
where they can be free from the confines of my mind
like tendrils they each seek what excites them,
the sight of colors no western mind can duplicate
here my eyes devour as much as they wish, the riad built to stimulate the eye
fooled by the bland exterior of the dull ochre, the street view
is kept to not expose the captivating color that awaits once you open the door
it entices every sense, at first the eyes are calmed by the shaded coolness
then as if being assaulted by the insanity of layers of patterns each
so intricate but then abruptly to end and the next begin
can such lavish decadence exist any place but in marrakech
once the eyes have accepted that this gift exists for them
the nose is slowly driven to heights it has never experienced
just as colors can not be described the fragrance of the riad
must be savored in levels, of intensity
heavy, frankincense, amber, heady musk
slightly lighter, rose, cinnamon paprika
wafting, lemon, mint,
ethereal, orange and jasmine
the 2 senses are fighting each other waiting only
for the third to kick into its own universe of sound
the murmur of voices sing song language soft as music
the trickle of the fountains some so subtle as to sound like the flow of blood
others so bold as to create splashes to excite
the call to worship a sound unlike anything else as it echoes from the minnerte
the sound of tinkling metal as silver wind chimes grasp the elusive breeze
this wonderful sense of peace yet alive and vibrant exists within the walls of the riad
your hands seek to touch the textures that abound
from the delicate silks to the roughest wools
cool tile soothes your feet after the heat of the medina and souk
hammered silver and brass, exotic woods smooth or rought hewn
lanterns glow with intricate lace patterns pounded through the metal
flickers of candles lick the sides and create shadow worlds dancing
or translucent colors of hand blown glass, in every shade imaginable
your senses are transformed to a land exotic temptations
succulent foods steamed, to deep perfection or grilled and seared
the freshest of everything for in the desert fresh is only a temporary concept
flavors tickled with spices gathered at the vendors of the souk that day
aromatic delicacies that can not be described but rolled in the mouth tantalizing your tongue and taste buds washed fresh with the famous mint tea
is there not a sense that is awakened by sultry teasing of marrakech
i soon find that there is a new sensation that demands my attention
it swells to hardness as if to say do not ignore me
are we not one brother? can i not add yet another layer of delight to your senses?
i shift on the soft feather mattress as he climbs to meet me
my eyes demand to be shut to not take a second of his pleasure
my hands stroke him with feathery lightness as i sigh and he is delighted
more he demands and i increase the pressure and feel him leap from my flat stomach engorged he is basking in the caresses and he throbs and the swelling becomes almost painful as i hold back and beg for more time, he fights every urge and desire and demands release to spray his own aroma to add to the scents that fill the room, i can control him no longer and the viper that lays on my own skin begins his dance, no snake charmer alive can control this heady beast
as it sprays its venom across my chest
i lay spent and exhausted drained of even my own essence
so enamored of this oasis within the sight of mountains
and the vast expanse of desert, this place, this dream this marrakech
awakened all my senses i am now complete i am whole
the call to prayer signals the end of day and beginning of night
as sunlight is replaced by moonlight that lays a sublime trail across the garden
my nostrils twitch as they speak to me of scents dreamed about earlier
now complete and steaming dishes await on the other side of the garden
i slip into my robes and cover my feet and make way towards the dining room
where my senses will be renewed and the tea is poured and plates are set before me
and once again i become a slave to the master of marrrakech
to the magic of morroco
i give myself completely to the magic
all of me, body, mind, soul
to marrakech
to morroco
to life
tony scarpa 8/14/2018
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