Lust And Love Betwixt The Adriatic

Somedays the ship races of
Tyranneous are at sea.

Somedays Penelope sits at home
with her lume.

Somedays the wine indulges.

Other days the olive oil heals.

The hands with polished nails raise
over the rising smoke
and
half moonlit light.

The earthen kiss anchors.

A child tosses a straw doll to the road.
There is dust.
The road leads down to the port.

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