my Pimlico girl (a 1973 romance)

my Pimlico girl (a 1973 romance)
 
we met beside the Regent’s Canal,
she was reading La Peste
in the original French
 
I straightened a Gauloise –
and in a cloud of smoke
and rive-gauche insouciance
risked a gambit,
‘j’adore Camus, ‘Sisyphe’ surtout’
 
she did not look up but asked,
‘would you imagine Sisyphus happy?’
 
wracking an impressive response, I stalled,
she broke the tumbleweed silence,
‘smoke?’
 
I lit a cigarette, passed it over,
as we stared at green-ink water
and swans at swim
 
she spoke to herself,
‘if love itself alone was enough…’
 
the swans serened from view
behind a tilting houseboat
she sighed,
‘swans pair for life…’
 
turning to me,
‘we are strangers,
yet might we share a discreet ‘liaison’
amid the madness of this city?’
 
I lucked on a tasty reply,
‘we are all strangers –
strangers to ourselves’
 
her cigarette flipped into the stream,
‘then, let’s be strangers no longer –
great loves may spring
from revolving door meetings
or even a towpath chance encounter…’
 
we walked a maze of streets to a discreet mews –
she opened the narrow door of a bijou pied-à-terre
and drew me to a boudoir oozing with her pleroma
we shared love until dusk – and my last Gauloise,
 
‘il est temps que tu partie’
‘will I see you again?’
‘bien sûr, cherie, je serais toujours là pour toi’
 
dazzled by the suddenness of carefree love,
I danced my way home but lost my way
 
now I trudge and trudge again
a tangle of pavements
sifting clouds of hazy memory,
 
and haunt the banks of the Regent’s Canal.

© coolhermit 2020
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Bhi

That is where we end up, sifting clouds of hazy memory.”

Anonymous <span title="New Commenter" style="font-size : small; color: blue;">*</span><p>

This is what unbridled (path!) lust does to you: fills you with dopamine till you don’t know whether you are coming or going!
*Big grin*
Allen

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