i.

Rumpled hotel sheets,

a girl in shorts and glasses –

a perfect morning

ii.

If your mind’s album lacks a photograph

to remember this day by, take this one:

you and me, mouths open at breakfast,

as out beyond the wall of latticed glass

clouds cave in like a shattered dam

and a tsunami of sunlight crashes over us,

drenching everything. Everything bobs and floats in it,

cloths, cutlery,

our own dazzled faces. Remember thus we two,

washed clean out of the city;

two people, bleached sepia by the sun,

in a sudden huge wilderness of light.

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