NOTES ON HOW TO AVOID MEMORY-LOSS (3)

I remember rain on my clitoris.

Lightening shimmered on your chest:

it looked like blood,

but they were shadows

come to rest at the flatlands of your skin.

Your sex smelt of smoke,

stale and old.

But me, I shone blue

and you stole oxygen

from my pink holes.

Your brown fingers in my vagina

like rough autumnal branches.

You found a handkerchief, I don't know where,

and threw it out of the car window,

all damp and wrinkled.

My breasts were about to explode.

I remember rain on my clitoris.

© Miren Agur Meabe