National Poetry Month: Story 2

Story 2 by Neile Graham

Summer sun malts on
skin, a flow dappled
by leaf and light till
my body is a
stream- a flow of bone

and shadow in a
bed of long grass and
weeds, the current a
pulse and stutter of
blood, slow renewal.

The breeze of your hand's
warmth slowly wakes me-
I surface to the
mixed breath of the sun,
the earth, the wind, you.