there's no need to call on me
all is well,
I've plenty of sardines and wine you see.
even grandmothers dinner bell.
weather's fine, no storms at bay.
-who needs it
when no conversation can prove it
nor length in travel to discover no end of it,
but we know you must.
so at midday when blazing heat mystifies with creative inhibitions
and the taut silky white facades pitched against cobalt
tonight the stars offer blessings
as fire and passion
turn to dust.