There is softness in the air.
Somebody plays the flute
In a neighboring house.
From the next room comes
A woman with candid & gentle
Face, framed with ash blond hair.
With a smell of bougainvillea
A voice floats in the warm air.
& she takes off her clothes—
Bright blue camisole &
Maroon panties—her armpits
Stink of old French perfume.
She climbs naked into my bed
Winter is in her hair & the smell
Of December alights her body.
In the warm sunlight
Through the green curtains,
We lie naked, winter in our mouths.
On the curves of our twined bodies
Lingers the finger of memories.
While our souls sway in the air,
Luminous like our bodies
Enclosed in each other & together
This bright afternoon.
Outside cherry branches with
Flowers shiver in the crisp air
Of cold & warm December.