by Remec
and your images just kill. This:
"Lovely as the
garden, with skin that could compare
to the silkiest of petals and kisses
that seemed to drip Neapolitan along
my tongue, while her hair always
seemed awash in citronella."
is gorgeous. You took me there. Nice work.
Being on the outer edge of the continent means I'm often last to the table but this poem is worth savouring. "Squared greenery" conjures up all those stately manicured gardens so aptly. As Ange has said your imagery is wonderful, from the garden at night to the rude intrusion of choppers on an unknown mission.