The skies were clear the day after he died.

I peeled off my clothes by the river
and watched the water breathe,
folding into itself like a chest wound.
It trembled at my touch,
as foot became current,
kissed thigh and naked breast,
warm cheek and curled lip.
The water was soft
and the world sighed beneath me.
My skin was built of goosebump
condensation.
I floated on my back and my body became the water cycle.

Evaporation is just another word
for rebirth.