December 6, 2013

Mombasa has a smell
Its very own
It’s not just one
Distinct like leather
Or wet earth

It’s a tapestry of many threads
Each to their own origin

Mombasa’s scent is warm and heavy
Like overnight clothes
Sweaty with chores of yesterday
But heady with the fragrance
Of fleeting scents

Arabic perfumes intermingling
Some ginger spice and masala
Tickling your nose
And salt
It smells of salt too
Like its sea washed

And it is!

The ocean boils underneath its grey skin
And Mombasa’s pores unfurl
With air so sultry and humid
It’s like a cloud of clear steam
All around you

 And just when you think
Your lungs can inhale no more
Of the muggy vapor
The ocean exhales
And brings forth a gust
Of wet, cool
Almost untarnished air

And it’s all your skin can do
To keep
From crying in relief

Made of Sand
Not Dura, but Alaminadura

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