A breath
smelling of mud
unfreezing, greenness,
grazes sweaty skin
in the starlit dark:
fogged windows,
open sunroof, unseen moon over budding trees.

I taste your name.
You name me with your breathing.
Ragged movement,
my tongue on your pulse,
consciousness shatters:
jagged pieces somersaulting rainbows
fluid coalescing, fractal-like.

Shuddering,
speaking in tongues,
wide-eyed,
head thrown back,
the stars, the sudden
silence that thrums
with smothered lightning--

I stare
As if I have never seen a moon before.

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This page copyright to Sarah Morehouse,
March 29, 2000