Spanish Summer

Whilst flicking back through some old photographs I came across the one in my post today. On seeing this picture of me at 20 years old, my senses began to recall vivid memories of the moment captured in this poem and I travelled back in time.

Madrid

This was a heat like I had never experienced before

A thick steamy blanket of infernal intensity that forced you into the present

like a fiery ultimatum.

There were people passing out on buses

salsa dancing around the midnight streets

living the nocturnal hours

as if the day had just broken

I was intimidated

enthralled

and acclimatising

My rosy English demeanour struggling to compose itself

amidst the assured merriment

of this urban fiesta

Too much traffic

Too many people

Too much noise

and it excited and invaded me simultaneously

As I gaze at the photo captured earlier that evening, I remember the burning, bitter kick of

unfiltered coffee.

I see myself posing in that darkened room

with my intensity

my insecurity

and my natural curiosity

and I soften.

That free-spirited Euro adventurer

with a creative heart and a precarious passion

for the unknown

is still

so present.

She is a wild and sensitive girl who needs me to free her and keep her protected

in equal measures.

And we are getting there.

3 thoughts on “Spanish Summer

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