(El día que nos vayamos se lo diremos a todo el mundo)

Being late to meet you at the station

 

 

That God-is-Light smile of your arms

One second before

I’m in them.

Your eyes, having nearly

Given up, lit up

As mythical

As Regent Street.  A satyr

Reeling at the discovery of honey.

Your mouth,

Tasting of the breath

Of greenhouses. The sap.

The open stamens. Clorophyll.

(Ruth Padel)

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