This old poem was recently revised. Unfortunately, I'm unable to replace the original version, due to some formatting problems. So I'm leaving that one in place, in its chronological spot, and posting the updated version here.

Body Heat

July 21 2009

No relief

from this sultry heat

with the sun at its height.

It seems to hover there,

as if time were arrested

our fugitive shadows effaced.

Even the bugs have hunkered down,

their hard black bodies

cinder-dry.

We move slowly.

Sit motionless.

Revel

in the wisps of breeze

that stroke our shoulders, stir our sun-bleached hair.

Our only shelter

a puff of cotton-batting cloud.

We are naked,

eyes shut

heads tilted upward.

Our bodies are engines of heat,

pulse tripping

skin flushed with blood.

Barely contained desire

radiates out.

I picture you underwater

smooth as polished rock,

nipples stiff, body slick,

tautly muscled arms.

Your golden hair floats free

in a halo about your head.

And I can see the bubbles of air

that cling to your skin

the closer I get.

I follow your legs,

ascending the curve of your ass

the small of your back

your finely-boned scapulae,

like delicate wings

gliding beneath

an even tan.

We will make love

in this tropical water,

weightless

frictionless

out of breath,

erupting-out into air

in a burst of spray.

And in mere seconds

will feel the salty astringence

of sun-dried skin.

Except the wetness, where I entered you

running down your leg.

And the sweat, intermingling

where we hold each other tight,

bodies touching

skin still hotly flushed.