Floating in this silent lake,

under summer’s white-hot stars,

I remember

how your breath, against my cheek,

scents my hair,

your hands, sure as the earth,

stroke strands away

before you bend to kiss,

your eyes reach to my core,

hold me firmly

in their sphere,

unbind my robes

and robes of knowledge,

until I breathe freely.

Naked as the moon,

that island in space

who silently watches,

I let go

light – prisms dazzle

upward. In this,

I am and die

and am

reborn.

When you find me in this lake,

dive into our mirror, glide near

so that our fingers touch,

your hair weaves into mine.

The moon will stare down

at two lotus petals

upon the black water

and whisper us

into night’s full mind.

© Copyright 2005 Susan M. Botich