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.