Pousada Tupinambás
by Amy Stone

I woke up a whole new creature
after sleeping on her 1000-thread-count
Egyptian sheets – soft ones, the blush color
of an inner thigh smoothed by a kiss.
First sounds to my ears, quiet ocean waves
massaging the southern beach, sea gulls cawing
my name in Portuguese, and Bianca’s bluesy voice
humming a Sixties love song. She set a tray
on the bed beside me, an act as seductive
as I’ve ever seen. On it, a silver pot
of steaming coffee, chocolate éclairs,
and a plate of crisp bacon. A smile tiptoed
across my mouth, an adagio whispering
Your day is about to change.

Illya's Honey Literary Journal

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