Aphrodite leaned in,
whispered a kiss between bites of a peach.
Knees curled up, sands still damp from rain.
On a blanket of surrender and sandwiches.
A serenade of ice cream vans,
children released balloons in celebration,
kites rose like doves into the sky.
I was a creature of pain,
I never knew I was suitable for love again,
until that kiss. Her brown hair waving
sea windward, calling the mermaids’ songs.
The myths were wrong, Psyche had nothing
on her. That was the moment — strawberries on shingle,
wine between nicotine kisses,
bare arms embracing, thighs pressing. I was born
to love and laugh and love and love again.