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by Linda Dominique Grosvenor
I sensed I loved him
but was my love credible?
I drank from his loving cup
as suspended adoration meticulously
mapped its way around my heart.
His words were new and unrehearsed
his lips undressed my mind
a mere craving of the soul.
I reveled in the loveliness
when our passion was new.
Like an idol I gave figs
as an offering
and drank him in
always reminiscing about
the boy from Belize.

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Copyright © 1997 by Linda Dominique Grosvenor. All rights reserved.