simplest best like the cool air beyond the threshold
best like the white sheets amid your limbs in the gray morning
easiest is the first bite that sharpens my hunger
the melting ice cube at the bottom of the glass
which is as crisp as the word itself
or clean hair, smelling of soap and sun
sweetest and no less is the lap around the park on saturday afternoon
napped in sweat and prickled with goosebumps
running in a fog of green, green clorophyll smell
through garlands of barbeque smoke
best yet the moments after loving you
before sleep sets in, with my ear cupped to catch your hearbeat
tickled by your hands as they come to rest
and, oh yes, the memory of ferries and fried shrimps
at tables wreathed in familiar faces above
and bare feet below