Summer 2005


Summer 2005


Let me drink from rivulets of water, pouring from your palms
a temple of skin over your tapered bones
the curve of fingers, lovelier than any Florentine doorway.

In the shade of the almond trees, there is a valley of pure white sand
where cool water runs among the limestone
on the outskirts of this mountain town.


When you throw back your head and laugh
it is the moon moving through Black Cherry Trees
vast oceans rising.

I wade waist deep in the tributaries of your tongue,
your teeth, the cave of your soft palate.
Each breath, a waving field of foxglove
and I, the sole inhabitant of such a perfect universe.


Susan Pilewski teaches writing at SUNY Stony Brook. She is an editor of Rio: A Journal Of The Art and is the winner of the 2003 writing constest sponsored by Stony Brook's Institute for Medicine in Contemporary Society.


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