Miranda Coventry

Porto Heritage

I presume you a ream of decades,

Like me, with better colors, perhaps,

conservative brands,

Aged wrinkles on me.

Between mahogany and brazil woods,

Rugs & Carpets, Skylights

Haughty, why not say?

Between us, silence sounded peace:

-He appeased, he translated any language,

He didn't need words. I asked for a Port.

- You have no idea how long it takes

that I don't taste a Port?!

"Neither do I," you said.

The future was a forbidden topic.

Whenever I challenge myself

Think beyond, I'll guess you

the awkward.

Let's talk about space, magnificent.

The nectar was savored in small sips,

The conversation came out easy,

A vintage came in handy.

You pulled a cohiba and the whole of Cuba,

in the Castro, invaded space.

I looked at you carefully.

You knew how to love.

Your arms were the same,

the reach of words, deeds.

That place marked the

fortuitous love of the lovers

who occupied the 301.

We lowered the fever of

all the couples,

and the whole night witnessed

us absent. At breakfast.

That Porto was a century old

sweeter than the future.

What more could I call upon

To the farewell?

Afternoon entering Ceuta

and exit nodes.

Each one heading

A different cardinal point.

In my blood, baby,

Porto's heritage, flowing into

in Foz, always.