for Len Never in that dream of dreams childhood sent my nighttimes to, did I imagine You, my love. Even as gray shoots through your dark outrageous curls certain brown eyed glances bring instantaneous moistening and we relinquish our day to the bedroom faire l’amour. You become my dark prince and trusted stallion— rider and horse as one. In the morning, tethered to fields of rich dark coffee, my tongue follows a sweet dark rivulet from pain au chocolat up the long slow curve of your succulent chin.
A big thank you to Rallentanda at POW. This piece would not have come without her prompt. "Write a poem in the style of Prevert with some French sprinkles. Please provide a translation if you are going to use big chunks of French .I look forward to some very varied and interesting poems next week. A toute a l'heure."
I read several translations of Jacques Prevert's poems before writing my own. I wanted to write a piece that included coffee and love. ha!