Just below the falls. Twenty miles from any town. A day of dense sunlight heavy with odors of love. Already your body, sharpness of Picasso, is drying in this highland air. I towel down your back, your hips, with my undershirt.
Time is a mountain lion.
We laugh at nothing, and as I touch your breasts even the ground- rrrrrrrrrrrr squirrels are dazzeled. I am accustomed to covering, what I now bare, watch you waken and wash me with your eyes. I feel the cloth of your skin, uncovered, inviting me in, feel your breath warm in my ear. Till with utmost fury driven Down, at once, we sunk to heaven. Each time I never believe we will get any closer.