By The Beaver Dam

We crouched in the river

letting our mouths, noses,

flat palms feel the slight

bubble of water tension.

There was a carcass coated 

with flies to our right.  

It was perfectly cloudy

when we undressed.  

I kissed each freckle 

on your back until 

the oaks staggered

and the robins hushed.  

The air clotted, 

the thunder whooped, 

and I forgot you 

were there at all.