Written for OLWG# 247
On days like today, I think of Zyanya
A young girl I once knew in Chiapas.
Dark hair, dark eyes.
We fell in love
that afternoon in the plaza de la ciudad.
On the steps of a
We spent the night at an old hotel
in Ocosingo. Made a lot of noise.
In the morning she kissed me,
pulled her dress back on, over her head, smoothed the soft cotton.
Then turned her face to the sun,
and wandered away
disappearing into the east.
This week’s prompts were:
- turn your face to the sun
- a light behind the stone