the bodies of water in the sky are dancing in the wind
making shapes akin to those our ancestor’s ancestors gazed upon
and here we lay
naked in the evening dusk
in a foreign homeland
listening to the first rain of the season
remembering
our first river-swim
our first kiss
bodies magnetized
intellects entwined
that day in September
it’s always a day in September isn’t it
love like ours takes root as summer wanes
amidst the harvest and stirring of desire
we trace our curves and slopes with our left, artisan hands,
we draw each other into presence
outline ourselves in pleasure
we find each other
again
and again
and again
in the margins of a dying paradigm
we love each other and others in a tender freedom
I do not belong to you
and you do not belong to me
yet together we belong
repatterning our relational field
expanding into complex depths
we become bodies of water merging
making infinite shapes and incantations
as we dance into the unknown.
