french ennui --- our mouths made sweet by green apple

french ennui

the rain
comes down
making
streets gleam
like patent leather
as i flick the cigarette stub
out the long window
into the courtyard
i glance at my naked lover
entwined between damp white sheets
lying beside me
the tart green apple on the bedstand
the knife to slice our breaths aroma
to freshen our delight
each dawn of love’s embrace
few partitions or slices left
between us
no noise of mosquitoes
in this quiet city
no blaring boomboxes
just my partner's rhythmic breathing
in this quiet city
telephone rings are less insistent
barking dogs are less obtrusive
rain seems too fall lightly as
hours fall from the joined hips of lovers
spent in rainy afternoons
and i gaze at a window
on the other side of the courtyard
where a woman is watching me
not bothering to cover herself
from a bed similar to the one i share
as she holds a cigarette in her left hand
inhaling and then languidly passing it
to her drowsy lover who lies beside her
all of us inhaling the moments of paris