My Friend
My friend Yoshi, I may have mentioned before,simply because he has the longest legs and
must surely be at least 7 feet tall!
I wonder if I had ever told you that his real name
is Rudolph and why he is called Yoshi and not Rudi ~
simply lies in the fact of a surname, Yoshiokinowa.
We meet about once a year, sometimes less than that.
We once kissed after dodging traffic in a sudden downpour,
he grabbed my hand,I held my shoes, through the swirling
and gutters overfilling and drenched we stood on the safe side
smiling and as slanting rain, slated us, he wiped
the drop of water on my nose and caught the tear.
Afterwards when the velvet of his kiss left mine,
we walked to a nearby café, I ordered an espresso,
Yoshi had a beer and the complimentary popping corn;
rain steamed up the windows, we kept our hands entwined.
It was a moment, a small interlude, we kissed again, just once,
twenty years later at the funeral of a friend. Did I tell you
Yoshi has the longest legs, the warmest heart and a velvet kiss,
our kisses were always at inappropriate times,
nowadays when we meet, Yoshi supplies the wine and I the cushions
and I wonder what would have happened, if it hadn't rained that day
Poetry by Elle
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Written on 2012-12-16 at 13:17
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