Even the insistent tune of crickets
My wet body on hot bricks,
face down, by the pool,
eyes clouded by warm vapors.
Water from my hair trickles down the neck,
feeds into a puddle
which cools my burning cheek.
Gentle splashes sprinkle
cold tickling drops along my legs.
I knew the movement of leaves above.
Stillness absorbed all sounds.
It felt good having a body then. Lire la suite