Large mop of black curls perched on her left shoulder
Face a blush red
White T-shirt clinging to her bosom
She tightened her clutch around my waist
As the motorcycle
Veered into the next bend
Peering over the windshield the night hung on the mountains like a black
Velvet curtain
Lightning tore across the night sky as the bike lurched forward toward the
Monsoon
Daisy whispered into my ear in her broken English of her theories about love
She giggled and pierced her upper lip
Pelleted by rain drops then thundering
Showers of rain walked down my back
Daisy pulled into me; resting her mop next to my shoulder,
Sighing
Pang in my heart then rush of tears; breathing into the image
Realizing and praying “why”
She appeared then vanishing into the horizon
Sweet Daisy had passed on year or so
around the 15th of November
Her smell, taste
Daisy, giggling, whispering,
My companion
Come again, we’ll ride soon.
No comments yet.