Your hands touch my face,
you hesitate, the water of my cheek
rushes around your index finger,
you push through my bones
up to your elbows.
You bring your mouth close,
push your tongue down
hold up a finger,
trace a word on my chin.
I have no mouth,
my thoughts are light moving on water.
You find me quickly, pull a net made of words
cast it out. I see you cast it many times.
I watch my eye roll down your firm belly,
watch myself watching it roll down your firm belly.
You gather my other eye and send it
tumbling after the first.
Your hands dig into the wet clay,
they are soft as they work
sculpting feet and legs and arms.
Your hands close about my ears, seeking
the source of my pulse.
You place your hands together
like prayer and cut into me.
Potentially, might be ...