Justine

She wore a little perfume, not a lot.
It had a lovely scent. She led me from
The blazing beach, the laughing
Children, swaying palms, and parrots,
To her parents' house beyond the tourists'
Shopping street: a villa behind
White-washed walls, museum-like,
With marble floors and fine old paintings
In the hallway. In the living room,
A great green chair for me. She took
The loveseat. Dappled light streamed
Through the windows as we talked.
Iced tea was served. Her parents
Were away, she said, in Monaco
Or maybe Nice. I gazed down at her
Folded legs and up at her amazing face,
A perfect oval, like a mask, and wished
That she would let me have the thing
I'd come to want the most. She wouldn't,
But I got to kiss her when we reached
The door.




Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 27 times
Written on 2020-11-18 at 20:02

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bibek adhikari The PoetBay support member heart!
At least he got something in the end. :D A movie-like fantasy here. Nicely done, Larry.
2020-11-20


josephus The PoetBay support member heart!
A fantasy not quite universal but widely held by men of a certain age I think (me being one); beautifully articulated! Well done Larry.
2020-11-19