It Is Reason Enough

Eclipse (1966)

Lewis Kruglick

An image of her develops,
coming across the hot center of Greek plains
into my mind like a whisper.
I touch her breasts;
her eyes lower.  Her face fills with motion.
In the village young girls make music, and
we walk in streets where the dust stirs.
What do my fingers touch?

The coffee we drink in a taverna
makes circles in my cup.  Her eyes
seem to be blank spots: colorless.
We do not talk.  The sea breathes
deeply from its belly; squares on
the tablecloths turn white.  Were
her hands slender?  There are several
vacant spaces in what I remember.

This evening a blue painting on the wall
becomes the Mediterranean Sea in her hair.
In the dim light of conversation
I see a woman laughing.  There is
a sameness about the mouth which
introduces one into the other.  We speak.
I touch her breasts; her eyes lower.  One
smiles through the other.  In the morning
her hair will be wet with the jasmine-scent
of sweat, and I will enter the woman
through the image.
It is reason enough.

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