Pastel Deck Chairs

Fresh off the plane,
the air vibrates in the tropical heat.
You take off your straw hat,
A chance encounter,  – good seeing you again.

The azure of the pool
sings its open invitation.
Splash! I sink in.
Holding my breath
like you hold your love.

“Her time has run out”, you say.
Nothing for us to do but lay there,
painting silence in our pastel deck chairs.

You and I, idle by the poolside.
The thought haunts me after it’s long gone.
The equator burns my eyelids.
Do you still taste the chlorine like I do?

Christine Göös