After our success with Acueductos (the water department), we can shower in our own home at last! This seems to cry out for a poetic interlude.
After Acueductos (by Allysen Palmer)
Water flows everywhere.
Ah, rain,
sleekly satin fingertips running along my hair and body
sweet pleasure, my lover, touching without fear,
sure of my eager consent.
Smooth fish swim against my body,
tiny touches make me gently drunk
on clean, on wet
heavy hair releasing a week of sweat and dirt.
My lustrous dark fur clings slick and delightful
while soap moves in to add its bite
and nip and strip the protective layers away.
Back into the world I step,
nothing between my mantle of cells and the warm morning air.
Clothing rubs pleased against my self, exploring the bare boundary
clasping integument,
only my eyes still barriered
protected by their guardian layer of tears
working always, alert to carry away the invading dust of life
protecting that window
straight into my soul.
(The photo is a waterfall on the Snake River and has nothing whatever to do with Puerto Rico. Coming in Part 4, time starts to blur. I know I said that before, but this time I mean it.)
[To read The Ponce Chronicles in order, start here.]