The Eight

            we are older now.
old enough to be girls together
           at  table 
               we eat
            slowly 
   staring
       talking talking  
      always laughing
              she
                    sitting between my legs
        at our table of sun-warmed wood
             she
                   pushing back into me
      my arms wrapped around her
from behind.

                








© 2015 Adele Bertei, all rights reserved, photos by Brassaï

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we are older now, 
                   she and I
         from opposite sides
                    across the great divide 
          we meet
                in the middle 
         weaving  stories from the heart
                of our country 
                        'tis of thee 
                   we cry
            across the misconceived divides.

we eat
    delicately spiced foods 
          little animals
        sticking rose petals to our faces
   our bodies 
   as hungry as mouths as minds
            kissing the moments 
        each and each


forever making up for lost time.