When I swim, I can feel you
at the moment my muscles tense in my shoulders and my arms whip round
as my gasp breaks the surface I can feel your touch, masseuse inside these
desperate sinews
the cool green water dozes and floats with zebra light,
roused for a second, torn, by my rude passage

then it settles down more deeply

I float, deep in the arms of the girl with silver hair,
her touch so soft it does not graze my skin
(forgotten, the lover who tore into my side)
On her whispers, deeply cloaked, I am intent
Like a slightly aggressive angel she comes, her dress and veil and face of
white,
her cheeks with silver glittering

Far gone, those years when everything lost its taste
when in my dark heart fires ghost was cocked
I float endlessly in her soft wet cloud
looking up at the Coloradoan sky