Mari Gras' Pajamas Poem by Kewayne Wadley

beneath the mask of my heart
I've never been to Mari Gras'
but always wanted to go.
I imagine a joy that whirls and twirls
in the embrace of colorful beads.
jazz horns and crawdads.
somewhere in the midst, your eyes
would meet mine between drunken laughs
and the flash of an iPhone.
From one side of the street to the other
In front of a pub where Brent Faiyaz is playing loud
From their speakers.
I imagine there to be a crescent moon
Peeking through the sky, thin as a cat's eye.
and us under the spell of the city.
through a look, my soul would have slipped
gold purple and green beads around your neck,
attached with little miniature saxophones.
pushing the clouds from view.
the mystique of a smile that hides from behind
a mask.
my soul dancing with yours between a shared laugh.
a secret printed wide on the cat's pajamas
lost in one alley or the next.
Trying to remember what song was playing at the pub
We originally met