Perfume comes to me
And brings me back to the years of the island where we are still
Walking those white streets
Naked on the terrace while the coffee pot is boiling.
We are still there bathing in the smell of salt
Sweating with the sand, defining gods and skies.
We made kites from our words and dreams with our skin.
We didn’t know right or wrong
Only knew that which gave us pleasure.
We are all left with the memories we deserve.