A Romantic Interlude

A romantic interlude At sunset, when the evening has a bluish taint I think to myself I should have written more how wonderful life can be. She smells so good after her nightly bath combs her hair looks, at her naked body I think to myself, I should have loved her more. Life is like a short film. I remember the first time I saw her, the café was full she beckoned to me to sit by her table. I asked if she was Irish, this made her laugh Can´t you see I´m not white? This rose in a winter landscape. We danced, loved, and traveled, time wasted away and her burden was we´re childless a baby in her arm was her dream, at the time, it was of little interest. The unborn came between us. I made no objection and sat her free. She is married now, with three healthy children. I still travel the world, my companion is the memory of her.