the cross

the cross loops around a scarab, protecting it with a golden sheath. green emeralds shine along symmetrical pathways, upwards and in.

papyri used to tell stories of the pharaohs. of moonlit nights by the nile. of crocodiles waiting for sundown, birds flying cautiously overhead. boats drifting and the murmur of paddles as they imperceptibly part the shiny water, slowly carrying dreams up north, all the way from the falls. away from the centre.

a gentle breeze brings the perfume of bananas, and far away - a fading hint - the desert where a caravan of chewing camels puts one foot ahead of another, ahead of another, ahead of another...

a girl in a black veil stares into the distance, amused by the mirage, the palm trees, the mirrored waters. children climbing up to get the fruit. monkeys gathering the fallen catch. perhaps a man, perhaps, gathering his clothes as he comes out of the water, just as the first crocodile makes its quiet way back in.