Poem of the Week: “Brie & Figs on Toast”

Brings You to a Warmer Place

  • Graphic Breea Kobernick

Crazy and wild, we ran free
Then you decided we weren’t meant to be

Brie & figs on toast
No matter near
or far, mi amor —
I feel you in the winds
of the West Coast

It was our last time on the
beach in the shade:
said to you, the ocean
is your second nature
Our chemistry is
undeniable, babe
You saw the Pacific breeze
in my lazy stature

When we were together,
it gave you that lust for life
Told me I taste
like a Cherry popsicle
in the end of July
But when the sun sets and
the dim sparkle left your eye —
They grew cold and draft like
the tides move to the night

Can’t be tied down to the
sand and the sea,
stars whisper your name in
the shadow light
Before we could define us,
honey, you left me
Like constellations I make out
your face in tricolour skies

The California light
beams down on my lips,
mimics your golden tan
with the sun’s kiss
Close my eyes and
feel it tickle my salt skin —
on sunny days, I sit at our
old spot and reminisce
The last remnants of you
like the first time that
you ever let me in

Your obnoxious laugh
replays in my mind,
sewing kit still on my
linen bed sheets.
Wish that you told me
that it’d be the last time,
the warm smell of you lingers
on the cobblestone street

The baker from Greggs,
he asked me about the
fig tree in your backyard
Still, I never know just how
exactly to break the cause
Or add onto to the French
essence of your English charm;
as I live through the tender
memories of what once was

Now each time I’m in your
hometown, I pay a visit to
pick up a fresh loaf
It’s the best I can get,
without you to hold me close
Alone with myself,
time and time again —
as I can’t help but feast
on brie & figs on toast

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