I am always wet, baptized
by buckets of water cascading down my back.
I am always surrounded by hills, hugged
by earth mother laying on her back,
hilltops pointing up like erect nipples.
I can almost run my hands along
the cleavage of her slopes.
I am always seeing panoramas of you:
Your long black hair running along
your stout body in high heels
slipping and splashing in the water
clacking against the cement.
I am always dancing:
In the rain, in the hills, on the streets
baptized by buckets of water
from the sidewalk, and with you:
I am always one step behind
trying to keep up with your rhythm.
You are my conduit:
Like the sun bursting from behind the clouds
with piercing intensity, reminding me of what
lurks behind your dark eyes.