City boy came back to the village
With a newly acquired skill from the city
He called it kissing
The civilized way of showing love !
A foreign act he boasted
Preaching with an air of superiority
We stood in awe with our wrappers tightly tied around our chests
Gathered around him in a circle
Large water pots carefully balanced on our heads
Watching him demonstrate this new skill we had never seen
Since non of us were bold enough to volunteer
He would close his eyes and stick out his thick lips like a donkey on heat
Then rub his lips vigorously against his palm like a dog with an itching mouth
Opening his mouth in the process and almost chewing his palm !
With saliva all over his palm!
What sort love is this foreign act ?
How do I reach for my beloved with my eyes closed?
Or find his lips when I cant see?
In this strange expression of civilized love?
Without making myself an object of ridicule?
Treasured are still the shy glances of lovers and the occasional touch
As I accompany my mother to the market with a basket on my head
Cherished are the tickles behind my ears with that lone broomstick or flower
As I sit on a fallen tree branch with my hoe resting beside me on the farm
And priceless are your embraces
When we meet at the stream
With our eyes wide open
We all watch City boy in amusement and disgust
Alas! He has bitten his tongue!
All in an attempt to show off his newly acquired skill
The circle we have formed disperses
As we burst into laughter at his folly and misfortune
I am in no hurry to acquire new skills for this civillized love