Perhaps God is
a waterfall
tucked deep inside
canyon's swollen lips
on a sweltering April day,
a young friendly woman
with a slight stutter
holding her daughter
'Elli Belli' and me
shirtless grinning,
pants rolled up
past bony knees,
glasses safe
on a dry boulder
and like a toddler weaving
lurching across this pebbled
bottom to perch
underneath
surprising beauty
receiving all her plunging
grace and happy
din crashing down the cliff
onto soaked ears,
her frothy tongue
drenching my mortal skin,
so sensuously tingling--
such wild joyful purifying,
this fluid's saving
unclenching
must surely be a sin.
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