Toes squish through ripe mud, bubbles ooze up.
Sink down, descend days and years, into first light. Sun, banding in waves, breaks into thin beams between leaves and falling, falling, splatters knees and belly, chest, penis, pale buttocks, paints the years. Only the sounds of splashing, rap of a woodpecker on dry bark, rustle of armadillos rooting through damp leaves, breath heavy, alien. So and, again, so. A white heron, immense in beauty, breaks flight, dips down, beak open, splashes white from bank to bank.