The rain finds us hiding
miniscule streams dribble liquid strands
onto
and around us.
We climb slow from a cotton wove
water soaked
lean to.
Sweet moments bathed in anticipation
and sun sparkling low above the rocks
and water waves crashing.
I'll paint you over red with blush
clumsy at the helm
hands covered in rainbows.
Childhood innocence when they hand you the pallet
and you discard your brushes
in favor
of fingers.
I am primitive.
Soaked through supple flesh
to the bone
we dry our clothes in the rays of the sun.
God to the heathens.
We lounge exposed on the rocks and washed up weeds
smiling shut eyed at each other
and that fiery eye in the heavens.
The smell of rain
cleansing
and you
your perfume
lingering.

I wish to breathe like this forever
**or not at all.