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Red Pepper Days

These, perhaps are my red pepper days,
hazy sunshine and love after dark,
in a curtainless room beneath
the stripy bed clothes
their vertical stripes
elongating our love.

Oh yes, my pink kettle,
red hot chilli pepper days,
swing on the radio
and a you tube upload,
my big hat summer ways
with a shawl wrapped
and your arms
as we vie for freckles.

These are my red onion days,
Morroccan stews with couscous
that we never manage to eat,
and glasses left on window ledges,
tossed out on window boxes,
how the olives thrive.

these are, possibly
the august days of summer hood,
holding hands in gully days,
hugging the sea wall,
watching you stall
on plumper lips,
a dip a sip
of hot pepper days.

Poetry by Elle