Our discreditable secret is that we don't know anything at all, and our horrid inner secret is that we don't care that we don't - Dylan Thomas
Friday, November 03, 2006
Something else
The chocolate melted in your hands
You stared at it - for long enough
To know the different shapes
Your fingers caused it to make
Different tastes linger on your tongue
And longer in your memory
A day without care and chores
As freedoms slides in
The water boiled just right
Tea leaves adding a pale yellow shade
A wedge of lime - with baring seeds
And golden honey lacing the rim
Its a perfect afternoon you've had
That came after much desire
No chaos, no conversations
Just a table set with the right stuff
A long stemmed pale lily danced
In an even paler vase
As the breeze tricked the drapes
And blew right in the house
Miles Davis painted a picture
Sketches of Spain to be precise
A long drawn lazy afternoon
That came after much desire
A book you picked up last month
From an old second hand store
You didn't know the author, you didn't care
It was just something you wanted to read
The almonds were crushed
And embedded in the chocolate
Bits of it were stuck in your teeth
Making you grin in secret joy
The lace on the table
Dated back a hundred years
Yellow stains were a little apparent
But it was a treasure nevertheless
The afternoon will roll over
Into a boring evening
When the blaring television will tell
Tales of crime and sex in the city
Life will move on the way it does
People will come and go as they do
The chores will return along with the chaos
Giving your nights a different dream
It's that one afternoon you got
After much prayer
That will remain ethereal
And the only object of your affection
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