The Last Night by Jennifer Ratliff

“If only you would be here a couple more days,” Gianis says with a wistful look, “there
are so many things I would show you…” Eyebrows raised, I glance out the window of
the moving car…

Sitting on a chair, looking at the sparkling sea,
In the distance a row of dots light the coastline.
I turn to Gianis and ask him what they are -
“We’ll go over there and you’ll see soon,” he responds.

Taking me by the hand, over a wooden ramp to the smooth, sandy beach,
The wind breathes through my sea-colored billowy pants,
Exposing the skin to my upper thigh.
Grasping my hand he leads me to a chair near the sea,
I hear a steady, rhythmical beat of music from the restaurant behind us -
Or maybe it’s my heart…

Gianis sits, motions me to sit in front of him,
Embraces me, pulls me back to him.
The moon-bathed sea looks on as I lean back,
Feeling his lips on my bare shoulders, my neck…

As I turn slightly, his hands move up my sides over my erect nipples,
I lean back to rest against him as his hands move freely between my legs.
Closing my eyes I feel his tongue enter my mouth and taste him,
My heightened senses hear him whisper, “I’m going to eat you alive!”

Standing we look at each other as the surf breaks over the shore,
“Do you want to go swim or go to my place now?” he asks.
I move in close to him, grasp the back of his head as he tries to kiss my neck,
Bringing his eyes up to mine I tell him, “swimming can wait awhile…”
Leaving the sea behind us we head to his house on his motorcycle.

Once there, bypassing the bike he tells me,
“this trip requires a car due to the terrain – you’ll see.”
I watch out the window, see beauty bathed in moonlight,
Gates, flowers, castles, palm trees, colors muted but so alive!

Past the street lamps I saw earlier, lining the water,
To a tourist spot with gelato stands and souvenirs,
We descend a winding road – steep and rocky,
“see why we couldn’t bring the bike?” he says.

As we emerge between two mountainous cliffs
I see a sea wall with a small pool on our side,
And the moon seems to smile as Gianis takes my hand,
Leading me to the water’s edge, “see, it’s warm here, trust me.”

I enter the water with tredidation, fearing cold,
Gasp as warmness moves through my body from my feet upwards.
“Wow,” I breath, as I gather my pants to protect them,
Moving in as far as I dare without drenching my clothes.

“This is wonderful!” my eyes sparkle as I say it,
And from the moon’s reflection on the water I see
Gianis’ smile, and he breathes, “I told you.”
I can feel bubbles through the sand with my bare toes.

The air is too cold for me to swim without a suit,
So we climb up the bank back to the car.
I sit down, glance to my right and sigh, “it’s just like a movie!”
A jutting rock silhouetted by moonlight in the rolling sea beside the cliff face…

I hear, “I’d rather live it than watch a movie,”
And respond, “you can because you live here – I can’t!”
Silence as I take in the view before me
Wishing
time
would
just
stop.

Up the slope, I try to memorize the curves,
As we emerge from inside the mountain,
Gazing around I notice we are on a cliff,
Gianis turns off the car and I realize I’m looking at the “Silver Road.”

A contented sigh, I lie on Gianis’ chest gazing at the silver sea,
Embracing me, he kisses the top of my head saying,
“Maybe it’s good that we met just before you have to leave…”
I am too afraid of his response to ask why.

On the motorcycle once again, we go to town stopping near “Bar Street.”
He parks and asks do I want dessert – no way I’m saying no,
He takes my hand as we walk toward a busy crepe restaurant.
Sitting by the harbor looking at the boats and yachts anchored there we eat our treats.

AT 4:15 AM we head back to the “Golden City”
Where he makes me Nescafe, as promised,
Then loads me up with things “for the trip” he says,
Candy, pens, his address, a chocolate bar and the ever-coveted sweetener.

At 4:58 AM we embark for the hotel, pull up in front of the driveway on the road,
Though I am not sure why he didn’t pull into the lot, I disembark.
I thank him, we hug, kiss passionately,
And as I round the columns to the door I hear him tear off down the street.

I sigh, smile and look up to see several people in the parking lot already,
No wonder he didn’t pull in, I think.
Rushing past my fellow travelers, I head into the hotel,
Get my luggage, now ready – though exhausted – for the journey home.

The trip to Greece, all the archeological sites,
Down the coast of Turkey, the ancient history and events that occurred,
I know I will never forget this trip.
But that last night on the island of Kos will stay with me forever.




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