by Steven J. Serafiani
we ebbed and flowed in fifteen hundred threads
just outside, the blue satin sea grew envious
Eleonora, you foul mouthed signorina
my Vernazza princess
Eleonora, my new found lover
you taught me your native tongue
clothed in sheets woven by your ancestry
Eleonora, I must leave tomorrow
So let’s drink red. Let’s drink red. Let’s drink red!
let’s drink red till dawn taunts
and it did
I took your hand under a canopy of greenery
the dark green dentate umbrella on Cherry st.
you were quiet, angry and
discarded it quickly.
disfigured emotionally I figured
you were most likely thinking of Vernazza
that postcard I sent
fridge stuck once, now plucked and
mingling with orange rinds and coffee grounds
Eleonora fluttered through your shades as they
shuffled through the parliament sky
lips took a heavy puff
all salt water expended earlier in our kitchen
she shook her head,
“How could you?”
What can I say love?
Loneliness crept through the door
I’m a weak man
but, love, it will always be you.
A shout cleared birds off sidewalks,
“If you follow me I will scream!”
and there you went.
collect your life in cardboard as I buy bread.
leave shadows on the egg white walls.
I deserve such.
I returned to Vernazza two months later
and I went searching for Eleonora
ragged and in need of love
usual places first,
went back to where we met
Christian, the barista spoke four words as his wand screamed submerged,
“She left with another.”
I stepped outside
cleared my throat of what stuck and
stared enviously at the sea.