This is somewhere between poetry and prose...I'd say.
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Remembrance
The taste of white wine was like home as she sat beneath the sweeping branches of the willow beside her. The sun shone from in-between the gaps dancing over her skin taunting her with warmth washing over her like waves before disappearing.
Inconsistent
Persistent
And something more
But she simply just ignored it all melting into somewhere between retrospection and fantasy feeling a sense of vertigo as she did so.
A cooling breeze passed over her and in that moment she felt content.
She could see him sitting somewhere caught up in this, that, or something ignoring the clarity of the sky.
The dark fabric of his suit jacket
The deep blue of his shirt
The flash of the glinting silver belt buckle
Her palms befriended the grass as she let her fingers tangle against the ground taking a deep breath- inhaling the fresh air. But it was not the smell of honey suckle and summer that she was consuming it was him.
It was the mix of musky sandal wood and soap that immersed her.
His scent
His skin
The sound of children laughing, the warnings of mothers and the heady conversations of lovers floated through the air.
They were lovers
They were more
They were less
She closed her eyes imagining being wrapped up in crisp linen beside him; beneath him.
She thought of her fingers dusty across his tan skin, brushing the freckles, scars and marks of their affair his clothes usually covered.
The trail of dirty blond hair on his torso
The stubble across his cheek
These were the memories she held close- these were the memories she indulged in while she was alone. She would fear that they would be seen in the darkness of her eyes were she to think about him anywhere else.
Worried someone would see her she would escape. Sit in dark rooms alone simply just recalling in every detail everything they had ever done. She could mouth every word he had spoken to her.
His voice seemed to muttering in her ear.
The urging
The insistence
The surrender
He was telling her things.
He was teaching her things.
Their entangled bodies flashed before her eyes as she let her mind bring to life the last time they had hidden from the world like star-crossed lovers.
His warmth had covered her just as the shadows of the willow were doing.
Eye to eye
Chest to chest
Toe to toe
They were sprawled out in her fantasises, looking into each other's souls as they ignited a spark that would never burn out.
The wine in her hand warmed just like her body the sun relentless in its torture. She had never been one for summer.
The taste of his lips settled on her as if it had only been moments ago; the coffee, the cigarettes and the hints of mint.
She licked her lips.
She couldn't help it.
All of those remembrances were reinforcing her helplessness when it came to him and his wicked ways.