Paul waits for Blake Biegler in the dusty field behind the school. Biegler is ten minutes late. He pokes his fingers through the chainlink, staring beyond the suicide barriers toward Golden Lakes. The ... [+]
The air is fresh now, and clean,
gone is the sultry, moody sky
that carried a veil of humidity
Stroking our skin with wetness,
leaving a languid erotic sense
aware of our bodies, but lazy
Touch was work, the air heavy
love was easier to speak than do
but now we make love easily
Languid, we lay on our bed, sweat
glossing our skin, tracing salt on tongue
but after the rain, love is energised