It was trade, barter,

That spice you hold in your hand,
how did you acquire it?

I was alone in my country with a need;
you possessed a similar need which called out for

Did we not find the path to each other?
Have we not bartered here until satisfied?

The quirk of your mouth
against mine
equally for the feel of your body
against my skin…

and now we have established
the trade routes which will expand our borders
and save both of us
from the drought
to come.



2 thoughts on “Trade

  1. The words and the photo go nicely together. Now I know this poem is about more than just trading spices. Or is it just me? Plus someone today clicked on a link to wordabsinthe at The Gazette. It wasn’t me.

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