So there’s this poet in my garden.
He sits right by the willow tree.
Listening to the words I say,
As he morphs them into beauty.
You were so waiting for me to jump into the deep end
Where the splash would engulf and wash away
I have ever dreamed
with her slippers of glass,
clicks her heels three times
They say that she is a beautiful dancer.
Her limbs follow the music.
Her heart pulses to the beat.
Satin-wrapped toes click
Saline eyes drift along the shore
Somehow asking for a muse once more
They fall upon
A barren rock
The summer’s gone.
We wasted away the days
lying by fires and
burying our toes in the sand.
I see now, that I loved you.
“only in hindsight, ” as they say.
Because I thought, when I loved you,
“no, it cannot be, ”
Africa- the warm sand between my toes
and standing in front of me-
pink and gold and it shines in the sun,
If we planted love,
instead of flowers,
winter would be heartbreak.