Slings and Arrows by the Mediterranean
The day holds me in its palm
and I curl against the sand,
a pampered kitten.
Two thong-clad men eye me.
Hesitation rides the air.
Dare they draw straws for first shot
at this Americano with the salt thickened hair
and long sullen legs?
I'm tired of faceless young men
Magritte could've painted in one wrist flick.
Odd how I still bed them, yet run
when confronted with you.
You opened a trapdoor
in Greece and I fall, knowing
I'm still falling towards you.
Under this seasick sky.
Under these marshmallow clouds.
Under the waning day moon crescent
rising on the tipsy horizon.
I cross my arms over my breasts.
Cupid's arrow will not take me so easily.
Pris Campbell
©2007
Art: Panama by Didi Menendez
copyrighted and used with permission
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