she took deep breath of him through her eyes
he snaked through her brain down her neck straight to her heart
there he stopped to drink from that sacred bowl,
then coiled and wiggled his way to her ***.
she felt a surge as her organs shook
her breath came in bursts.
her mind snapped from her inhibition like a flag
in a stiff wind.
she knew his scent without going near him
it was fern-laced and green, and she wanted
to put her nose to him and inhale to the bottom of her lungs.
she felt his ****** mistral blow through her, warming her limbs
he was water-wind-breath, po-wa-ha.
she felt her old skin peel away in the force of his mistral,
in the clean wash of his waterlight,
and the caress of his breathing on the air around them.
she stepped out of her old pelt to reveal
the woman she had always been.


c. 1995/2017 Roberta Compton Rainwater