I heart you

This month the A and I Poetry Challenge prompts us to write a heart poem. Since I’m waiting to be reunited with amore, this was not a hard task.

Here is a look back at the two weeks we spent together in Slovenia before he had to return. Every line of my sort of not-really-poem corresponds with one photo where it is repeated in the caption. (Except the last four lines only get one photo.)

I heart you

…when after I’d been here for a month seeing hearts everywhere
you arrive in the robe of space traveller or Jedi on leave;

…when you feel comfortable sailing between urban and rural,
between salmon-walled riverside restaurants
and the realest pizzeria Napoletana outside Naples;

…when you enjoy doing it by yourself too: filled topless tomatoes
and timballo – baked pasta with ragu – ready to serve;

…when a friend takes us to Slovenian house for some Ljubljana steak
and shows us a hand in stone in the old town and you’re all charm;

…when you still smile after a long fruitless search of another friend,
and after you park your unicorn carelessly;

…when your eye wonders, praises and judges
but your hands are always open and giving
even to your rival;

…when you admire mountains despite yourself
following my father
aiding my mother
but the “But why?” question is never far,
especially when your learn of a fee to enter the chapel;

…when you drive us around all day
and leave for Italy the next morning
and I’m left without you again for three weeks.
One more week to go.

When after I’d been here for a month seeing hearts everywhere

you arrive in the robe of space traveller or Jedi on leave;

When you feel comfortable sailing between urban and rural,

between salmon-walled riverside restaurants

and the realest pizzeria Napoletana outside Naples (Verace, Ljubljana);

When you enjoy doing it by yourself too: filled topless tomatoes

and timballo – baked pasta with ragu – ready to serve;

When a friend takes us to Slovenian house for some Ljubljana steak

and shows us a hand in stone in the old town and you’re all charm;

When you still smile after a long fruitless search of another friend,

and after you park your unicorn carelessly;

When your eye wonders, praises and judges

but your hands are always open and giving

even to your rival (Happy dog day!);

When you admire mountains despite yourself

following my father (Javorca chapel)

aiding my mother

but the “But why?” question is never far,

especially when your learn of a fee to enter the chapel;

When you drive us around all day and leave for Italy the next morning and I’m left without you again for three weeks. One more week to go. (The centre of Ljubljana in August.)

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