How is it that a haze of summer can creep into your mind
filled with the gentle buzzing of insects,
coarse grained reclining and lazy lapping
of tongue to dripping curves and dips
where the last of the moisture finds freedom to dwell.

Beneath the moving ocean skin can be seen
to brush, fingers to clasp and grip,
while above lips meet and move in an unceasing pursuit,
until with a thrust and a twist the touch is broken
- the longing is enforced and the perfection of form
flickers in pieces as oil upon glass.

Through the flicker of an eye and beyond the step
of those who hang above the liquid shore,
can be viewed the beauty of birth,
a slow languid emerging from the warmth of belonging
accompanied by an entrance to a world of glare and brilliance.

With a suddeness peculiar to the slow summer light
music appears, curtains billow with the softest of breaths
giving glimpses of feet that move upon a carpet
of life absorbing the richness of youth through their soles.

A quickly stolen kiss followed by a glance
along outstretched arms barely touching at their tips,
brings a meeting of forms, a melting of outlines
and a blurring of features. As a breath full with
the promise of love filters upon gentle skin it turns 
and spins and is gone beyond the curtains that live only for breath.
 

  © 2000