Carcanet Poetry

I touch your cheek to protect you

I loved those days! each one exactly like its predecessor.
There were the stone steps we climbed together
and the little town where we breakfasted. Very far away,
I could see the cove where we used to swim, but not hear anymore
the children calling out to one another, nor hear
you anymore, asking me if I would like a cold drink,
which I always would.

When the postcards stopped, I read the old ones again.
I saw myself standing under the balcony in that rain
of foil-covered kisses, unable to believe you would abandon me,
begging you, of course, though not in words