FORBIDDEN SUBSTANCES Poem by Kiki Dimoula

Despite its polite temperature

the night

hustled October to its finish.



Others too sat outside timid

each one's fear

won't easily forgo

that tepid prequel of the wintry

and so I too detoured

your Nordic climate

with an almost summery attitude.



Are you cold? No

we were discussing heatedly

how very black the absent stars

painted the sea



your orange juice sat far

from my coffee

and totally out of context

you whispered love

dies before it gets to age



I barely heard

you pulled your chair

so violently close its iron leg

jammed into my leg's thought



and up flared a suspect otherworldly

fragrantly vacant pain



plainly you

God from your secret and forbidden

heights had squeezed

derision in my cup.