first date / by Erin


porto katsiki, a beginning

slightly hungover and the waft of cigarettes hits my stomache. i'm watching the old man, he peers out from his glasses at every passerbye in the slow harbour. i'm begging for a coffee but i can't handle it at the moment, so i buy some ripe red plums instead.
trying to pile it all up, this island, this tiny moment, just a handful of days but i can barely hold them all at once. how can you be so solid and soft all at once.


i like best the smells. the soft honeysuckle on the walk back to mine, and your cologne warm and woodsy, and the salty hot air that floats down from the mountains. your skin always warm from the heat of the day, and we are kissing under the moon, hello moon.

forgetting to fill the van with gas, i'm nervous next to you. but i'm eating all the strawberries and laughing, and your voice calms me. finally getting to the white stone beach, but forgetting your towel and sharing mine. i'm topless and the ocean is icy cold, washing over, and over.
the air is moist in the morning and you open the shutters for me as i peer out with one eye. sunlight and green light and grey light, but i fall back asleep and my dreams are never happy. i pull the sheet over tight.
we are always driving, windows open wide and dry heat. i'm staring at hilltops and treetops and the sky just keeps getting bigger as we glide around corners, i'm watching you shift from the corner of my eye. i'm watching your hands and your body, so confident in every move. driving up, right into the sun. and then we are lying under the stars and i'm telling you how much i wish i knew their names but i don't, maybe one day i will.