I went down
for a while.
In the heat
I shivered under sheets
and tried to make sense
of the German women's voices,
the soft cloth dabs
and the occasional euphoria
of aching bones.

Three mornings passed
and I came out.
Leizel was waiting on the balcony
with coffee.
The bright light overwhelmed my eyes,
but the scent of palm and diesel and sea salt
brought me back to life.

As I sipped,
Leizel asked - 'who is this Monique?'
For hours, she said,
For hours I had asked for her.
She's a lucky woman,
Leizel concluded,
with a hand briefly on my hand.
She's very lucky.

Within,
within,
I broke apart again.