In bells from church steeples, and bells from clock towers. Bells on boats in the blue-black harbors. Crickets who chirped in thickets of thorn. Hydraulic pumps and honking horns. I heard choir voices that echoed down alleys, Cowbells in valleys and a swallowtail‘s screech way up in a rafter. But nothing as clear as the sound of your laughter.


When I was away, I missed you, my baby. You were there in all that I tasted. When I was away I tasted such things As olives from trees and trout from cold springs. I had brown bread and pink pears, and great hunks of cheese which I ate in the dark, on fast trains, And while sitting on stairs. I had gelati that ran down my hands in slow drips. But nothing as sweet as a kiss from your lips.


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