Finesse

The gentle breeze feels like waves of spectra
Your touch resembles the Doppler effect
Everlasting, on standby.

Your fingers feel like whispers of the past
I can almost remember your eyes-
Whole, silky brown
Almost like a light behind a drop of honey.

If I were to ever see you again, I’d invite you to the little rocks below the Acropolis for some chai -with extra cinnamon- and a Tupperware with string beans!

I’d await a rendez-vous in Exarcheia to share some raki or red wine, holding hands under the table while music plays off at the distance and cigarette smoke fills the air; in our ears it is in tune, with melody but also time reminding us of finesse.

I would be patient to see you laugh or smile at sunset, or a few minutes later.

Copyright © M.E.S.