simple pleasures

coconut water

freshly cut by

the man who loves me

waking to the sea and the trees

painting the door blue

catching up with a friend

had not heard from in years

his lips brushing mine

sitting at my desk

listening to the breeze sashaying

flirting with trees and

tossing leaves into the air

the fragrance of sweet peppers

pungent but not hot

coconut meat firm and crunchy

door wide open

leaves blow in

he eats his salad

i drink my smoothie

we are

home