“Quince,” he said “you…” This after such kiss: August 14th, 1:42 p.m.
Imagine then these two; this idyllic, pastoral summer
the plunkety-plunk of a Bach partita, g major
who would have expected this that then next
That he would be with her lips, tongue - all apricot….
Her heart beating fast as a hummingbird’s,
a thousand impossible, unseen beats per minute
Perhaps he sees the giveaway shy blush: hush
The silence after the word forever…
Such concurrence to be found in those lidded lined and labeled jars ~quince ~
Some portent or signifier:
He butters her bread, he breaks the seal; says, “Jam tomorrow…” then “, jam today…”
Her face now pale and flushed; an Amen of recollection.
Imagine then these two; this idyllic, pastoral summer
the plunkety-plunk of a Bach partita, g major
who would have expected this that then next
That he would be with her lips, tongue - all apricot….
Her heart beating fast as a hummingbird’s,
a thousand impossible, unseen beats per minute
Perhaps he sees the giveaway shy blush: hush
The silence after the word forever…
Such concurrence to be found in those lidded lined and labeled jars ~quince ~
Some portent or signifier:
He butters her bread, he breaks the seal; says, “Jam tomorrow…” then “, jam today…”
Her face now pale and flushed; an Amen of recollection.
By Sadi Ranson
