ALICIA VIGUER-ESPERT
The Return I return to my city, search in the cafe of La Alameda, the young hand holding a wine glass, his gaze distant and inward.
I return to my city where every adolescent resembles the one I knew so well but never knew, nor understood the consuming flame burning his wings of moth, the mystery of strings holding back his grasshopper legs propelled by fire.
I return to my city, cross a whole ocean to hear his voice in the evening news, a local station discussing his work,
those documentaries of life in Africa, savannah, desert, lakes, wilderness, his love for open skies, and I remember exactly when those fraying strings were cut on that summer night when I said, I couldn’t be sure, perhaps it wasn’t love, but plain desire, and he said, desire is never plain.
© Alicia Viguer-Espert 2024 February POETRY & WRITING © liveencounters.net
