that first time in Provence
bled through
to stain my heart
with you— and wine
and crusty loaf
torn into delicious chunks
carving up the Brie
with a jack knife
on that rock
in the southern sun
so sublime—
sky sea blue
sea sky blue
reflections in sunglasses
two scarves of coral
you with wine lips licking
me, some cheesy kissing— it
bled through
to stain my heart
that first time in Provence
troysherdahl 