Au Naturel

Au Naturel

    Rosa expresses her desire to feel the sun on her bare skin. I watch her stroll naked into her family’s rice field until she vanishes. After the second-hand makes three rotations, I follow her. On either side of me, the rice tassels wave in the wind as though acknowledging my passage.
     Rosa’s family cannot understand her need to be nude outside. I tell her that her body, which to me represents the perfection of beauty in the female form, need not be hidden in pre-exhibition drapery. Her form reminds me of one of the statues of Aphrodite I saw in an art book back in high school.
     When my pursuit brings me near the mill pond, I shed my clothes. I pussyfoot to within sight of Rosa. There, egrets form kung fu poses on cypress knees. She lies on the grass with her knees drawn up. Sunlight fills in the space between her legs and softly blesses her flower of womanhood with golden nourishment from the sky. Her head rests upon a patch of leaves as her eyes gaze through the valley between her upraised knees. The newborn sun, just peeking through the trees, becomes fire obliterating my eyes till all that’s left is heat and flame. I stand bestride Rosa like a colossus. She looks up to where my cock points to the sky.
     Soon yellow light sparkles on the pond’s surface as a breeze makes ripples through the water. I sit on a tuft of grass beside Rosa and breathe deep. Rosa says, “Pablo, you are my confessor in whose eyes I have no need to repent. Your physique has a symmetry which seems to be perfect. Your body intrigues me like one of those perfect Pythagorean forms must have intrigued the ancient Greeks.”
    A murmur of wind blows through the treetops.  The pond water is stained a deep caramel color by the tannic acid of decaying vegetation. Sunday morning laziness settles across me like a warm bath.
     Rosa’s father lets us linger in childhood for just a few more seasons. I tell Rosa, “I feel guilty for feeling such serenity while your father toils to feed and house me.”
     She replies, “Pablo, you worked your balls off out here on the farm for my father. You have nothing to feel guilty about.”
     Strange, I thought how the sun on my naked skin makes such worries inconsequential. But this morning I feel like flying with butterflies through the sunny green of pine boughs across the deep blue skies on a journey of awakening. The earth is so close like a lover touching my innermost being.
     I take a dip in the pond. The water is gently stirred by the breeze and laps against my thighs until I am immersed in the healing womb of Gaia. The cool waters penetrate my orifices. I sink into the dark waters on fire with morning sun shards.
     I feel so sensual and alive on this morning of my recreation. While afloat in the cool sacred water the eddies curl across my posterior as my moons bob up and down in the soup. My face sinks into the dark water where a feeling of cool wetness envelopes me with comfort. I feel like a son of the cosmos floating between worlds in a sparkling cloud of stardust, me a star child returning home.
     Returning, our feet tread the tilled earth in green fields between rows of stalks. Rosa’s derriere is a double dare with the shape of the round fruit of a tree of the rose known as an apple. Her lustrous cinnamon strands are woven in braids of maiden splendor. Her tresses roll over her nymphic swells under blue velvet skies where fleecy clouds migrate.