Khulan

My father was killed
fighting the Russians
says sloe-eyed
Khulan, and now
I am learning Chinese;

Khulan has a shy
gracious smile, a three-year-old
daughter, an absent
shadowy husband,
and she speaks
impeccable British English;

Khulan grazes my cheek
with her slim
cool fingers, smiles
from the mysterious
dark pools
of her almond eyes;

I am falling in love
with this vision from Mongolia,
but these days, sadly,
I tend to fall in love
with every 30-something girl

sadly, and gladly ....

I smile, I speak,
but only a croak emerges:
God, she is so beautiful!