Monday, June 22, 2015

After All This Time

After All This Time

When I swam without clothes
it was as if my body knew
for the first time
what it was to have water
as a friend
not through yards of wettable
yarn or fibers
but as air
took sun
and created light
through flow.

Three men,
one looking like a sheriff,
rode up
to the hill on the other side
of the reservoir.
I was out of the water
and looked back
as they stared.
After a few minutes
they rode away.
It was as if
drops from water
and sun
clothed me
in enough fire
to repulse
their avidity.
The reservoir
saw us
two more times
that summer.
During the last time,
someone I knew from camp
swam up
and greeted me
by my back.
I explained to my bf
how we all changed
in the bunks
and knew each others' backs.
He laughed and said,
"After all this time?"

I laughed,
feeling my body
greet his
and the cold white wine
he'd hidden.

"Yes," I said,
loving the sun
and the icy water
that we would leave
way too soon.
"After all this time."

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