The room is stockinged in low red light
a black lady leans across the yellow
Mahogany bar, pushes her lips out
in a sultry kiss me pout, the dim lightfalling all around, ravishes her cheeks
exacerbating her angular features.
A white man leans forward, ever so slightly
closer, his identity lost in his back
of anonymity, the thumping drums
of kwaito fill the room, a highlight
softens her lips, a smile her pretty face
the faceless man relents, his lips find hers
and their eyes close, as they hold each other
in a stuff Apartheid kiss
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