The benches are always worn and splintered. The view is always different, but the same. Water laps upon shores, whispering “come to me”. The seasons change the trees, but only you make them turn upside down. Sometimes we share fruit or olives, sweetly spicy. Always we share passion that lingers upon our skin for days.
Kisses diminish the distance of time and miles. Laughter heals the wounds we refuse to reveal. Tears dare to spill the secrets dammed behind our walls. The breeze is a welcome voyeur to our lover’s embraces.
I thrive in this place so divine.