The wind whispers to me- not a song nor a plee
Not atypically (like they do in poetry)
But just for me.
I walk the streets to Firiplaka beach, alone.
Thinking of you, or someone similar.
Wishing we were more familiar.
Oh, how you would comfort me on nights alone.
I always found a place for you at home.
But now, I'm aware we have drifted apart.
Spent too much time together from the start.
You make me feel sick, still in the best way possible.
I'm aware your mind must be elsewhere,
and perhaps mine is as well.
Oh feta saganaki, I'm dreaming of you.
Feta saganaki, I'm under your spell.
Loosely written on Milos, Greece in 2017 whilst walking to Firiplaka Beach. I eventually hitchhiked down with a lovely lady from France whilst writing this piece. OH, and If you haven't tried Feta Saganaki yet then you are truly missing out. Legit. It's feta cooked in oil, who doesn't love that?!? And yes, my wedding cake will be four tiers of it. No joke.
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Pics by: Stella Tzacharistas