cleansed

the smell of the rain as it brushes

the tips of my fingers clean gleaming white

like hands held too tight

entwined

and how flowers bloom up through the translucent

layers of her skin soft clear on clear and pale

and all the darkness is like a person openmouthed

in awe of the bright

listening to voices that belong to the talk

of beautiful things in sheer flowing sun sheets

billowing down to us earthbound

and held up and gliding on hands

stretching our hipbones to the sound blue

above

so comforted extended toward the light

words falling from my fist as it relaxes

crests of creamy glowed skin and bone unfolded

and they are scented with

the sweat of flower stems

green and rising

spreading in the cool damp glory of vines

twisting together

slender stalks of movement wreathing

themselves around me

echoing with the shine of the pitch

blending in through our skin all kneaded

and moist we are worked to the supple

linings of our soul