Join the Neopoet online poetry workshop and community to improve as a writer, meet fellow poets, and showcase your work. Sign up, submit your poetry, and get started.

July

When July arrived
we left for Mykonos

After the grey of London,
after the cold sliced between us
like the crack of dawn
through a closed curtain,
we thought a month
of light and warmth
was all we needed

All we had
was sex

You wanted me
to suck your cock
that first night

I was tired

Gimme a thousand drachmas
I said jokingly

You did

So I did

Next morning
we strolled the shore
watching local fishermen
clean their catch

as behind them,
beyond the sand,
on bone-white pavement
shaded by vendor umbrellas,
the women were waiting,
readying their stands with ice
for the days' trade

We swam in waters
crisp as spearmint, then
wandered the lane-ways,
the winding
white-washed paths
that snaked the island

We stopped to explore
a little house
abandoned,
tucked away behind a
cascade
of brilliant bougainvillea

You fucked me
against the rough wall,
each thrust
an unspoken plea
for more than what we had

Later that night,
after the meal,
after the clubbing,

laying on damp sheets,
your face between my thighs -

I knew
this was all
it was

When July came to an end
I flew home,
tanned

the taste of salt
still faint upon my skin

.

Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Explicit Content

Comments

Hi pleiades, lovely poem about sex on the beautiful island of Mikonos. I've been there myself. It's as you describe it...all white and the sea is brilliant. I remember there was a tame pelican walking around and we used to feed it. I expect the locals bring on another pelican when they die. We boarded with a Greek family and had soft cheese with honey on it for breakfast, in a shady space. Coffee is thick and strong.
My only nit is that you could put some verses together, as one has to scroll up and down several times to understand it all. It would flow better without all that spacing. The title, content and sexiness are fine. The ending is sad, deftly written.
Best, Gracy

*
*
*
"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

Really thoughtful response, I appreciate that, thanks.

It was actually a summer spent on Mykonos. A
snapshot of a time in a relationship that
began in Oz, travelled to live in London, summered
on Mykonos. I liked that you mentioned the ending.
It was indeed sad. I'm not offended by profanity
(I believe profanity is subjective, anyway) or sex in poems I both
read or write. Unless its gratuitous. Not interested.

The spacing style is one I write in, mostly.
A style I like,
for a couple of reasons.
Will re-read again, with your suggestion re pulling verses
together, in mind. Cheers for your critique.

author comment

That pelican you speak of? Petros.
Petros the Pelican. I was told by a local
that Petros
was a fixture on Mykonos, originating
from the original pelican in
early-mid 70s. And yes, when
one Petros dies, he's replaced with
a new Petros!

author comment
(c) Neopoet.com. No copyright is claimed by Neopoet to original member content.