Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Fiji kind of love

Brown and skinny. Stringy hair. Tui built fluttered rooms
in faded white. Sheets hinged to fences, posts in the front yard.
A castle billowing with crickets and June bugs. Just for us.

We could have been anywhere.

He kissed my palms. My neck. My cheek. My lashes.
I kissed his mouth, his Fiji & L.A. face. Under closed eyes
we swam the Pacific. 2 mermaids in search of an oasis.

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