• I’m a boomerang
    That keeps coming back
    To a distant reverie
    From that night in the ravine
    Under the maples
    We met
    A tango we did
    Your body with curves of a cello
    Radiant as Apollo
    As musical as a harpsichord
    The light scent of perfume sticking to your skin
    I kiss the nape of your neck softly
    Caressing the slope of your jaw
    Twirling your bronze hair in my fingers
    Like I used to every morning
    You looked up at me from the other end of the field
    Under the maples
    But during the night
    You left
    Leaving me in the dust of August
    And into a state of vertigo.