It’s been fun going through these old poems. Maybe someday I’ll write a new one. 🙂
When an Angel Passes
Like candles dripping onto wine bottles,
Yesterday it rained.
Without looking through back alleys,
Or up museums in coffee bean air,
You asked me if I felt naked
Knowing my thighs
Brushed against each other,
The hair clinging to my face,
The air humid.
Fifteen arrondisements to the Eiffel Tower
For beer. We leaned over the bridge.
I watched streetlights bouncing the Seine.
In the park where flowers grow,
Like swans I sat perfectly white
On the perfectly green
We couldn’t walk on, but did.
Today, we’d return.
I’d French you over coffee,
A space between each line,
Like the wind of an angel’s wings.
Crepes, crossants for dinner,
Wax onto bottles
After the wine ran out.
I’d leave the way I came:
Through the Porte du Jour.