Daiquiris

I fell in love
as she brought us daiquiris
on a plate above her head
(in the atrium of the Sevilla hotel.)
The glasses were at my elbow;
she must have been two feet tall
and beautiful.
Dark hair and stormy eyes
and freckles
like constellations across her nose.
She placed the brimming drinks down
on the high table with the utmost care
as my wife spoke to me in sharp tones
that sounded like justifications.
And when she walked back to the bar
where the other waiters lounged
smoking cigars
there was nothing left of my love for her,
or of my marriage.