Zante

A turtle jettisoned into the
Ionian Sea.
Golden sun brought looseness to our tongues.
We are in Zante
and it fuels me.

Razorback.
Rhythmic sex.
Ocean in the conch.
Nervous that the plane might fold
fearful of the crunch.

Swimming in marble quartz
displacing time itself with my arms.
Days like this take years to pass.

There's a dune buggy growling on the beach.
Damp and sandy
towel muddy, neighbours randy.
I would fight in the Crusades
if it would win your favour?

Your perfection
is revealed to me at the zenith.
You are even more beautiful now
here at this peak overlooking
Zante.