azahar

I found you in the orchard

picking oranges with your

soft small hands

the perfumed air

made my head spin

orange blossom and your skin

your cheeks were flushed

in the morning sun

and your neck glistening

while soft, wavy hair

fell from your ponytail

as you turned to see me

I gave you my hand

to descend the ladder

those eyes again enchanted

and at reaching the bottom

we became paralyzed 

in each others arms

even now, remembering

the Hoopoe calling

while I took your face

in my hands

tasting your nectar lips

and the musky earth 

now miles and months

far away from you

it is orange season again

and I weep as I peel the fruit

surrounded by your scent and

the taste of your extinguished kiss

Reviews

[Marie]

This is beautiful. A powerful, poignant story of love in an orchard...