La Croix Valmer
We took the Marseilles road,
a cambered sun streaked the bay.
Lemon tea while others
search for cheap wine.
We are alone
exploring magnetic boundaries,
hands stalking a checkered tablecloth,
predict ourselves as a nocturn
far from other eyes.
Night, secret unfolding’s,
while we translate
the prayers of our flesh,
the tidal crests of our needs.
Dawn arrives with gulls
and guilt.
I catch the bus to Perpignan,
head for a border
that we know
we’ve already crossed.
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