You buy lemons and
I eat mango salad
We sponge up the radiance of this place.
The culture is rich and bright
So throws deep shadows.
I keep amulets of gratitude close and
Feel the full futility of trying to impress
When wisdom is a thing that changes daily
According to the season,
And the available fruit

Dawn run with an American friend,
We kick path.
We hear the crack
Of pebbles on ice puddles
In the early morning,
As in a cavern
somewhere untouched
Where no one but the rocks hear.

Here on the path
We dwell in chit chat
The tic of difficult conversation
Fades with the rythm of our feet.
We meet a woman
Mother of twins
In an instant we are a joyful crowd
Proud to be the firsts to meet the day.

Mists melt with sun up
Women and dogs claim the lane
Cold leaves the world for us
Safe now like a house
where we slept like stones,
And where shallow is the new deep.

I rest with you sweet man,
We count past lovers under the sheets
Its Early, 5.30
We have still, non ******* ***
We turn together as in a tunnel.
You have had more women
Than I have men
It irks me like
My gambling Grandfather
Who robbed me of paper mills,
And wealth

Strangers to me
You friends arrive
I am weary of my childish awkwardness with people unfamiliar
Of my pain at silence and the repercussive shame.
The question
What do you do?
In the successful circle
I want a paper mill
Or to a least have had more lovers than you.

Rest,
The blessed undress
Of strain and stress
Rains down on us.

Gentle,
Right on time and elemental
Whole and simple
A soul temple.

Chickens queue at my cousins gate,
Their embroidery glitters,
Like an exhibition
Laid out
At the V&A.
We eat their eggs,
Or not, you say,
They we're bought nearby, yesterday.

A blackbirds sings out of season,
We choke slightly on its song.
Grief, like a family name, follows,
Wrongness,
Like a boy hit by a drunken Father
When he was down.

We have mills in common,
Shod hooves on a peat path.
A Hardy blacksmith's daughter,
Iron hissing in its water bath,
Passion,
Spawns a tree,
Like us,
Made of paper.

Rest,
The blessed undress.
I let your American way
Sway me,
Light like a
Instagram follower,
Who speaks of beauty
Despite anonimity.
It's lovely isn't it?
The blue is unclouded,
Sea mist shrouded,
Today,
The planets called Holiday.

How can I not walk the twisty path,
Sit in chairs away from everyone
To read about poetry
and drink hot chocolate
When your beauty is at every corner?

How can I not grow and flourish,
Like the long shadows of the early morning
on the path in front of us,
When I am nourished at all turns?

How can I not feel lightness,
Like the soft white flour sieved by a cook
Into a competition winning cake,
Baked to perfection,
When you stir my worries into treasures.

How can I not love you,
When you brave
Unmanlyness
To show me your soul.