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.