essaouira, ca ira

Essaouira: every shade of blue and every shade of white – a lone fluffy lamb in the sapphire sky, azure shutters opening from the egg-shell stucco. Fresh fish feasts on the very edge of the world as the crescent moon rises; too much mint tea; des balades sur la plage after camel-rides along the Atlantic coast, and after soccer games with the locals. Roof-top breakfasts and a view of the wave-crests from the terrace. Sunburns and chocolate coffee; hunger, satisfied. On the bus back to Marrakech, the misshaped heart of the square, I saw stars, the real density of a carpet of stars, for the first time since being in Canada. The thick mesh of pinpricks in the navy sky had the intangible, infinite texture of sand through an hourglass, pebbles on a beach, leaves on the Redwoods. One fell: I thought of you.