Before the Weekend

Foto: Angela Stephenson


It was going to be your birthday the Saturday.
The Friday morning, i was by the window with a cigarette
Looking out at the low roofs under the gentle lace of the 8am sunlight,
Perched over the city, or our portion of the city.

A seagull floated by close to the ledge.
It had a large wingspan, and was going no place in particular,
Just soaring.
Then another, bigger or closer i couldn't tell. It all happened so fast

I thought of catching them somehow
And tying a banner between them
"Ainhoa I Love You" and setting them free again

It was going to be your birthday the Saturday
And the Friday morning, i wanted our love
to unfurl over the city, over our portion of the city
over the shoppers in El Gotico
Over the faithful in La Sagrada Familia,
Over the mopeds and commuters on Diagonal
And then out to sea
Under the gentle lace of the morning sun.