perspiration holds them closely,
submerged in its saltiness.
In a Spanish-style patio,
ferns at my elbows brushing gently on my skin,
geraniums and marigolds bend, weeping with lightness.
Walls are prominent, I’m encapsulated by tiles,
I can feel coolness seep into my skin.
Talavera patterns, robust colours painted by endued hands,
glazed with a sheen to withstand the years,
I place my bare feet on them; a chill surges through me
but the sun warms my desolation.
A refreshing dip in the garden’s fountain …
hidden from the world’s view.