you came to me as a friend of a friend
but by evening we we driving 140
through a glass of honey whiskey
sharing stories
of gardens, memory
family ties and beehives

you kept
me golden and flowing
towards you
to the sea we could not see
but heard breathing

until 4am
when the moonlight broke through
the Tudor windows
the tree's shadow etched against
your skin

and then we waited
until we met again
by Harlau lake
with honey on your lips

you made empenadas
and we played a game of cards
where you learnt past tense
and I learnt more of you

we drove out of town
made out in my car
watching headlights pass by
lighting up your eyes

it was only the present
we needed then