You appeared on the lake alone
in the little boat of desire
entirely of your own making.
Something darker had visited
so you were there. Suddenly
& vividly remembering, the erotic
life softly opened up before us.
You see, I was on the lake also.
We can now agree those were
more innocent times, so not much
was done about it. But finding
ourselves weary, we lowered our bodies
& found the water was warm, smelling
of earth. We swam past each other
slowly, exchanging vessels.
After rowing to the shore,
we could have enacted the predictable;
falling on each others flesh.
But we knew that on arrival
it would be about getting on our knees,
putting our lips to the surface
& slowly drinking, like all the other
animals that had gone before us.
Mark Jason Weston
Originally published in The Bucks County Writer, Fall 2004
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