#490 (subdued)


your hands

fidgeting with

the menu.

No water please,

always traces of

carbonic acid, I

just cannot bear.

And please, a little

more sauce next time,

yet delicious it was.

Dessert? No, I’m

full and you blush

like a bride, just some

more wine would be

nice if you would

be so kind, and you

look for the smiles

of the cruise ship,

shining away where

dusk meets the sea

under a dome

made of sighs.


© Matthias Grupe, 9th August 2018


  1. “A dome made of sighs”. That rather makes the poem, don’t you think?

    It was fascinating to see you masterfully use images that make “sighs” the perfect fit to the mood you create. I fancy I sometimes do that myself, but perfection is usually for the gods and not us.

    1. I also thought it was a good ending, thank you.

      And well, yes perfection…. it might be this feeling you have sometimes, not happiness, but close, when everything just seems to align just right. But maybe this is not perfection but rather synchronicity. Who knows?

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