There was an asphalt
colour to his lips
and hands
she thought
as he reached towards her
She dreamed of
cherry blossoms
and orchard winds
He stood in the grove
and then he
was beside the highway
so first she walked on by
then drove on by
Behind him
endless brick buildings
She kept herself safe
as her mother had taught her
by sponging each of the
surfaces around her
Then she performed her own
rituals that came from she knew
not where
She served herself
wine and almonds
then swam for hours between
the warm green reeds
of an unknown river
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.