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Mediterranean breeze warmed my dreams;
cappuccino mornings blended
into Bacardi sunsets.
Tobacco smoulders and I remember-
his name was Cristian Rosas.
Sunset passed. Spirits poured
European measures- unlike tight English twenty-five mil,
relieving the throbs of snow white turned red queen.
The glow led our intoxicated journey. Sambuca fused.
We invaded the dance floor.
blue, red, green
green merged with smiles.
Freedom spun me to his arms.
Giggles blushed sunburn. Cristian Rosas
whispered his name.
Fingers caressed my shoulder;
pulses shot down my back.
music people blurred
into echoes. His words
a treat richer than coffee. Citrus
perfume infused the heat; hunger took control.
Honey seeped into locked lips.
His wink broke the spell.
Notes flew off key. Samba swayed
a desperate grind of genitals, disgust
erupted in my throat. Honey
backhand met cheek.
On patio furniture I sucked cigarettes.
Cappuccino froth sank with my lust
Snowflakes JourneyFrost licks every twig
every blade, topping roofs
with Jack-glitter. Minus
her grey mantle; inhaling
pure ether as she comes.
Sisters float beside me-
let the goddess' gentle
winds brush me; guide me down
I crafted you with a silver pin
Etching unique patterns. Cherish
for he will adore you.
The goddess whispered:
"Snow powders you tonight, find one flake"
My roots tingled with excitement, no
longer shrivelled cold. As skies
turned silver, natures pulse
echoed my entirety.
He presents to me--
each crisp grass blade stands to
attention. I hope he knows
resting on me, content;
seeping, she melts.
rows of fairy lights rope
towards the turbulent city
Warm evenings, playing in the park,
till your mam came shouting .
Every night of summer.
You never cared how different we were.
Toilet paper decorates leafless trees and
your lungs fill with newly discovered smoke as
You admire your handiwork.
The sexes split. You tease
the girls for attention.
Those amber lights merely rows
upon rows of ugly terraces all designed by the same architect.
We never talk.
You were seen
with your hands
down her trousers
tomorrow you will blame intoxication.
Under the red skies, we exchanged memories like
veterans warmly recalling fallen friends. Swings rocked
in the winds, squeaking slowly sharing our dynamic;
juxtaposed on that faithful bench. You told me you hated what
you had become.
Red turned grey turned black,
drizzle soaked our skin.
You held me close as we walked
back to your house--
It wasn't your first time
I ignored the pain.
You never visit the park anymore.
All Here For A ReasonI turned onto a shady, well-manicured driveway that, for all intents and purposes, looked harmless enough. Maple trees lined both sides of the street, and a parade of Canadian geese marched across the road to a wide duck pond with a flamboyant fountain. There were blooming crepe myrtles and rose-of-sharons, and as I grew closer to my destination, neatly trimmed gardens with neatly trimmed bushes.
I stopped to let the geese pass. They looked at me; one hissed. I honked my horn and moved around them.
At the end of the road sat a collection of grayish buildings and a number of signs directing me to the appropriate parking lot. "Welcome to Ten Creeks Hospital," said one of them. "Please enjoy your stay." I parked in the visitor's lot. Surely I wouldn't be staying.
I was shaking when I got out of my car. I had spent the morning getting high. One foot in front of the other, flip-flop noises, hot sidewalk. Mulberry and magnolia trees, freshly shaved grass. A bench and pan for smokers. A set o
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