Andalusian Song
It was cooler on the veranda.
Below us a guitar translated the dark.
Orchids unrolled their purple tongues
to arbor moonlight.
We had quarreled earlier,
now I lowered my head in your lap.
Someone was singing about the sea;
the way the sea cries for the kiss of the shore,
how the sand runs to be drowned -
we both understood.
You went to lie on the bed.
Later, sangria washed salt from our lips.
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