Love in a Warm Climate:  Bali/Mexico

Why did we think that love would be any easier in a warm climate?
Shed of clothes in Bali, we didn’t shed our different skins.
You were prickly as a rambutan,
while I slipped in and out of moods
like one directed
by a maestro.

You once said you couldn’t write when you were happy,
and when you didn’t write for years with me,
you were unhappy in your happiness.

All the planets of your family were pulled by the gravity of your moods.
Could we break the fatal pull beneath the Southern Cross?
Pulled back into love by a climate Equatorial?

We tried again, but once there,
you said you couldn’t stay in Mexico for three days,
let alone a year,
and lobbied for our ejection from this paradise.

Then one week later,
you asked me how I knew
that this was what we were supposed to do,
and you won the argument I never thought I’d let you win.
We bought a house in Mexico.

Perhaps we both thought we could warm our hearts once more
to find that hot love that had fueled our beginning,
and I am left to wonder how our story might have ended
if you had lived to try with me––

love in a warm climate.

The Ragtag Daily Prompt today is “Eject.”