ON SHADOW’S EDGE

In masked light, at water’s edge
we remove our clothes, drop them gently in dirt
and you run for water’s cover.
Did you think I wouldn’t see
your half-moon breasts, up and down
or your wobbly buttocks in the half moonlight?
I wade out to you and we play, like children
splashing, diving.
We thrill at the moment
my hand paints your breast.
We swim to the shallows
hold hands, find a safe place to lie down.
You cry out to the stars, while I groan
into your neck and breathe in dirt.
Beside you now
I look up at the milky moon
see a shadow in her belly.
I look at you, see how your glow
illumines the earth around you.
I am a shadow.