FIVE

It’s a very early Sunday morning
In between two sunny days;
There are birds singing and people yawning,
Somewhere,
But not here.

I’m on the floor in a bed,
With an Italian woman I only just met,
And I’ve never been fed
Anything
Like this before.

She says “Have you had many lovers?”
I say “No.”
“Did you ever want many lovers?”
“Yes”
“Do you want me?”
And my heart stops, like I just lost my life.

In our berth the ice is broken,
And we start the story of our lives,
And it’s like nothing ever spoken,
Anywhere,
To anyone.

And in the end we sleep at dawn,
By which time we’re down to endearments,
And it’s like it’s not so late
Anymore,
Like it always was.