The sun spread across the gulf
in one long last technicolor smile of the day,
warming the glass window; heat
spilling onto our bodies,
fuel to the fire already raging between us.
21st Floor, Biloxi, Mississippi
We were fully clothed.
Your eyes glimpsed nakedness.
“The sun is reflecting outside of you."
I smiled knowingly, thankful to nature for
camouflaging my blush.

We lay in front of the window,
low to the above splendid ground
plumped up on pillows.
Our hands touched nonchalantly,
tips barely brushing.
It was startlingly erotic.
You have no idea how much.
When the fire got too hot,
you resorted to jokes.
Cool down and kindle.
We defied all statistics.
Legends in our proper minds.

Here we are again in our beloved New Orleans,
a different city
which also appears over the Mississippi,
holding on
to the game.

Can history repeat itself?

I stow in the high eye of the window
One eye captures the sun rising
behind the skyscrapers,
The other riveted on your sleeping form
in the bed a few feet away,
29th Floor, Canal Street.
The moment molded in freeze frame.
The age of true happiness.

We gave the best performance.
Different linens, same lights.
The familiarity of the music was
comforting beyond the superficial.
I felt created to complement you;
a blended tasteful creation.

Is it sufficient?

11/16/2014

Posted on 11/16/2014
Copyright © 2024 June Labyzon