Contorted on lichen rock
before placid ripples of sky
and lake we bare our soul.
Mountains rise in distances
that converse with the curves
of hips and torso, arms reaching
for tomorrow’s promises.
Our stomach churns, twists under
contrasts of grass greens and mottled
granite, where the yellow mosses
betray the pinks and reds of who we are.
Reflections on the water smudge in
distortion, and we expose ourselves
in an attempt to find what we’re looking for,
lost in the dialogue between flesh and stone.
5/26/10
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