In nature there is little we
can claim as ours,
but this lake
couldn’t deny our mark.
This water in its filth
seemed to us,
in our adolescent age,
a bright sheer green
of broken glass , dancing
to the hums of the distant cars,
remembering many countless nights and many rains.
A blanket, calling us in for warmth
beckoning us to stay till dawn.
It was not warm
and not beautiful.
Bottles of Mickey’s lay discarded.
We believed they once held love letters.
Full of jealousy of our own lost loves,
we undressed leaving on only our underwear.
Removing our bras,
our makeup and
this skin that bound us.
We became bare.
We felt ashamed at the previous
discomfort of our own skin.
We shivered, it made us numb
this shroud of cold water.
We became these shapeless beauties,
skimming, moving freely
away from the evening twilight
towards something beyond ourselves.
Created: Jul 04, 2010Shernan6 Document Media