Sundays that stretch like lazy cats on a tepid day.
Crossaint and black coffee by the pool,
Relishing a silence that denounces weekday veneers.
Mynas bathe on the edge of the water. Dip and shudder.
We read while menacing clouds above enveloped the precious monsoon sunshine.
*
The four weddings have come and gone.
Slide shows of besotted moments chronicled,
Caricatured smiles that masked ambivalence.
Pretty dresses and champagne aside,
They were mostly beautiful affairs.
Polka dots in early spring, disco mania in a gallery, rock anthems in a chapel.
*
The rose quartz still sits on my finger.
In times when honesty, self-condemnation, and history fail us,
There's nothing to do but construct a new dimension.
*
The christmas lights have suddenly appeared again.
It's been a year,
Of monumental moves.
I long for window frames lined by fairy lights, balmy sorbet days, and daffodils in porcelain.
*