Love Poem

I want to be as close to you

as the name San Juan de Aznalfarache

when you struggle to say it. A tune in the head

you can’t forget. A name

full of vitamins. A word so rich

that I catch in your fillings. A rhythm,

a taste. A place

where, once, a poet was king

of Mudejar origin. San Juan

de Aznalfarache. San

Juan de Aznalfarache. Stumble,

stutter me before moving on

to the African citadels. Make your tongue

touch, ever so gently, the back of your teeth.

No. Let me show you. Like this.

from Sparrow Tree (Bloodaxe, 2011), © Gwyneth Lewis 2011, used by permission of the author.

Gwyneth Lewis in the Poetry Store

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