Two go on their first adventure

The coach reversed under midnight lights
as a microphone crackled our stop
"Passporte"
said the somber night desk
without looking up from its book.
A huge key took us to a tired room
and dropped us into bed.

The clatter of breakfast cutlery
buttered heat across our bed
rising with the fresh baked bread
we white-washed the walls,
dancing in aqua blues and gold Majorcan hues
I floated on her shimmer.
Slipping into shorts and tee’s
we spiraled down its marble stairs
greeted by "ola" as they cleaned.

I listened to my sun baked squint,
dragging shade from poolside parasols
I shared my beach towel with Clive Barker,
and walked in pine forests so quiet
I could hear our needles falling.

We sophisticated each sunset,
dined on fish with eyes,
dressed white under bougainvillea
as fragrant as the wine.
Growing like my unbitten fingernails
for the very first time.