Climbing slabs of lava
up a Mexican volcano
dreamt about since he was 5,
another day traipsing off trail,
stepping through knee-high
chapparal towards the distant
peak on Winter's Solstice
are like us in bed entwined,
naked except for your thick
wool sox, returning at last
inside morning's golden light
to our sexy selves, this adventure
of lovers being
open
bold
in the moment
alive and free
to what's sweet
and sparkling, deliciously
beguiling, this mountain
of beauty we traverse
under cerulean skies
through waterfall and forest,
boulder and canyon,
breasts, shoulders, bellies,
hips and hungry lips,
our horizontal trip
of erupting surprise.
No comments:
Post a Comment