The traveller,
stunned into bafflement,
in the overcrowded bazaar,
wandered, dazed,
mid-morning sober,
utterly soul-struck.
Having just passed
a dream face where
it stood,
all too fleshly real,
selling papayas.
Really, there was no context,
he'd never been to Asia, nor
lived amongst Asians.
Only once,
when an adolescent,
had he dreamt of some berobed,
wholly foreign creature,
(perhaps based on his
kindergarten teacher)
deftly elegant, without effort,
reduce him to quivering jelly
with a glance and humble nod.
So he bought gemstones,
bathed them in goats-milk,
and gave them to her the following day.
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