started with a laugh after an explanation
never once was braiding hair a priority
lain his mane in my lap anyway
fed me olives off pizza slices
mentions that the beaches in Tuscany
do not have ferris wheels.
we can still spin in sunsets
where chanted prayers of artists
sound like whale songs remixed with haiku
and exhales of the afterglow.
a snowy Tuesday night in the city of wind
reheated pizza and his contempt of olives
©michele mitchell, 2014