I met two Englishmen
travelling the world with
stories of carnivals and camping
unrivalled by my wildest imagination
and I fell for a German girl
who kissed like nothing I’ve known.
I befriended a Dane who decided
to travel the planet indefinitely,
a marine biologist turned scuba instructor
and an Oxford graduate who had
never heard that song about his comma.
I drank with a Canadian who
walked to the shops in flip-flops
when it was minus forty out,
apologising when I spilt my drink,
and another German who kept
buying me beer – my pleas getting
lost in translation and golden bubbles.
All in a volcanic town exploding
with stories and sulphur,
oratory and olfactory sensation
bursting forth from boiling geysers.
There is a whole world out there,
people and places never thought of,
conversations never considered,
kisses uncaptured by fantasy.
Words can barely explore an
experience so infused with colour
that it matches the steaming
mineral pools of Wai-O-Tapu,
drawn from deep in the Earth,
from dreams deep in my soul.