Bend

Grass stained again
the dress I sometimes
wore with you down

to the river with
the dark dark deep
shapes where we bend

into eachother below again
into the surface of still
deeper things than eyes

Then I lost in yours so
often forgetting I change
my thoughts of you the

passion lasts and slowly
again the unbuttoning of me
encouraging laughter

another change of view to
offer you another fleshly soft
hand or a foot or touch

my hair or face asking
nothing in return saying
so much more than language

a conversation of bodies
extends and covers beyond
silty soft deposits of riverbank

with its long grass growing
upwards where we lay down
how carefully we listen