SUBJECT>Out of Breath/revised POSTER>Yoly EMAIL>yoly_c@yahoo.com DATE>1110589841 IP_ADDRESS>cache-dtc-ac08.proxy.aol.com PASSWORD>aaiEZds5BDMEY PREVIOUS>84565 NEXT> IMAGE> LINKNAME> LINKURL>

We unwind in the belly of Blue Mountain;
strands of hair loop from my baseball cap.
The wind makes cold paste on our bodies.
I would be dreaming of a shower and
expensive chamomile body wash,
but he begins to sing, slips two fingers
on a gnarled strand, gently pulls it back.
His lyrics blend into a new melody I’ve
been singing on the way up.
He sings off key.
I want to preserve that utopian song,
our near adhesive skin, bouquet of
smells, soil caught on cargo shorts,
and the Jamaican moon gleaming right at us.