V(
T^eKiss Miles grow, and
it's
as fresh as yesterday's peach,
picked somewhere in Mexico.
do think they
I
grow them there. Either there or Canada. The Niagara valley. Somewhere far. But in my mouth it's the crowning
moment of my summer,
the taste of have erased them all in favor of that afternoon with you, with only myself to trust.
many
touches, night after night.
I
Miles grow, and you have nothing of mine. From all your journeys, here and there - your teeth in my arm, your tongue in my ear, you bring nothing with you. But that kiss you never had, isn't that
what reminds you? Wasn't
yesterday? That grey day.
From
the
it
just
window
a sky smoke-grey
and buildings shale-grey and clouds dust-grey and fiiU of rain. Kiss me, you your lips, here fyou pointed to your own) on mine.
Does it matter that once we were young? I don't know where my heart has gone. With
that
never have you? Age has greyed me, strand by strand,
kiss
I
skin like sand That grey day
we were
-
but once,
-
don't you see?
happy.
We were
momentary green - fresh as every summer's harvest. Your skin,
the
beneath
this
my tongue. -
Jennifer Barizo
peach,
said,
