by Tracie Whitaker

I am not invisible like the blanket of breath
that moves back and forth
as the cool moistness of the sand
roughly strokes the heels of my feet;

As I slowly breathe in your presence waiting
and listening to the still quiet of timeless
waters caressing the darkness and
stroking me lovingly like hands;

And feeling the rhythm of your tide
pulsing, pounding, and easing back
then heaving, whirling, rising and
crashing like breath beneath breasts;

And I feel the warmth spreading, creeping
from a gentle glow to embers heating
in a moist cavern where we retreat as
we cannot breathe in the burning of our loins;

And the breeze passes over me like a lover's lips
just barely brushing as if to stir me, but
I shiver as I am laid open before you and
I sigh and let go of the weight upon my chest;

You pull back the darkness and slowly bathe
me in the glow of the coming rays
heating and holding me closely in
the steamy mist rising beneath my thighs;

And I am bathed in your majestic shining glory
brightly sparkling, dancing, shimmering boldly
showing me I am not invisible like the blanket
of breath God breathes in the sunrise on the beach.

Copyright © 1998. All rights reserved by the author.