Hold me tight again,
like you never did, in that
hotel room; don’t tell me once more
about the people in the other rooms,
the sex and arguments they were having,
their dreams;
don’t hold me again
In the warm afternoon breeze
bringing car-horns and sirens
through the lightly flapping curtain
and call the the front desk
for more wine.
Go through with me again, like you never
did, what the coming night promised;
the food and the drink and the sex,
how we would dance
beneath the palm trees
on the marble promenade,
the salt air off the sea
In the folds of your white dress
presenting your brown knees,
and the voices around us in a language
neither of us understand.
Don’t hold me again
on the marble promenade
In the warm salt air
and don’t gaze with me up at the mountain
that surround the city,
and out over the bay
where the islands aren’t
Let’s stay here, you never said, I like it here.
And you never spoke the words
let’s never go back again.
.
Niall Griffiths
.