wasp’s kiss

First wasp kiss of summer. She was drinking the sweet sweat under my arm, a wasp with good taste. Feeling the tickle I disturbed her, and: youch. Glass of prosecco took the edge off and we were seated so cosy under the green dense spreading trees, as low and even as though they had been a roof. People walked past wearing cloth beards with elastic round the ears. I read an email with good news. A man in the bar opposite was hanging a beautiful painting in the window.