Violets are purple, silly, or violet. And roses come in almost as many colours as irises.

The benches made from parts of trees reminded me of you

and your hands--

the things that you do and can do with them.

As I walked and separated from the group,

childish urges overcame me

and I indulged, thinking of bare feet in water pools on mountaintops.

The other day, on another walk, with all sorts of flitting flying things overhead,

someone asked, 'What's the Spanish word for "butterfly?"'

Mariposa.

I didn't answer though,

or if I did, then no one heard my whisper.

There are so many places here in which we could hide,

subsisting off the land and the work from our hands,

living like paupers in the plain

or on the mountainside,

I assure you that we would get by just fine.

We could speak broken Català, Español, Français...

You will set the stones for the house,

and I will set the curtains and the linens perfectly each day.

You will make all of the tables and chairs,

and I will make sure that there is food from the fields on them.

You will strum your guitar and sing for me,

and I will make a fire for us each day and night--

wind from my lips blowing on tinders to turn them hot orange;

wind from your lips making melodies into the night.

I still will sing for you if you are sick.

You will make the bed itself,

and I will make it, too, as is my wont.

Not like right now,

thousands of miles away.

Though you are still waiting for me when I reach my bed at night.

Though you are still singing me good morning.

By the way,

tapas is not a good as you made it sound in Boston.

I dream of Rome.