Love makes the finest dust
Think of our words
as tiny particles of air
moving through the atmosphere
our conversations
a light dusting of love
all fears all doubts
all hopes all dreams
expelled from the lungs
so that mine settle on you
and yours settle on me
the day consumed
by our banter
and our intermittent
intimate silences as we allow
our bodies simply to be
together
Sitting across from you
one sunny Sunday morning
at La Coupole in Montparnasse
life never tasted so good
as we sipped at our drinks
and watched the world go by
John Lyons