Several Storeys Above Street Level

We are undemanding

when young, happy to sit

on the fire escape

of your building,

drink coffee

and listen to music.

It’s easy in the early days.

My basketball gang has dispersed

for the summer, I have no job,

we have few mutual friends.

Love makes me mellow

and I’m happy to read in shade

several storeys up

on the terrasse

where you bask in sunlight.

Sometimes other tenants

join us on the deck,

but mostly we are alone

through sultry August.

After I introduce you

to Jordan, he drops by

on his bicycle,

colourful cycling clothes

aglitter in the sun.

He waves as he pedals

in lazy circles but refuses

to come up and join us.

At length I look up

from my book and suggest

we cool off in your place.

You no doubt know

the real attraction,

the heat is a ruse,

but are happy to play along.

I take your arm

at the door of the apartment,

lead you to the bedroom

and lay you down on rumpled sheets.

Delighted with each other,

we assume the sweet pleasures

of a summer afternoon

will always be as close

as the nearest patio.

— Quinn McIlhone