Saturday, June 24, 2017

Home again

There were never peaches
like the ones we had
that sultry afternoon
sitting just outside
the open french window
facing each other

your knees held in mine
the green plates in our laps
the peaches glistening
in the hot sunlight
drinking ouzo
looking at each other
not hurrying the feast
for another to come

the empty plates
laid on the tin together
with the two forks crossed
and I bent towards you
sweet in that air
in my arms
abandoned like a child

from your eager mouth
the taste of peaches
in my memory
leans back again

let me love you
let the sun beat
on our forgetfulness
one hour of all
the heat intense
and summer lightning
on the Calanques hills

let the storm wash the plates

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