without inhibition

Sweet Sweep of Blue Grass

I am sipping sky
from the bowl of my hands
left feeling full bodied, completed,
running, with loose
clothing catching in branches,
I want to die, I wante to die,
right here in the sweet sweep
of blue grass with clouds spinning
around my head, warmth
tossed to my hair, to my body
full breasted and legged.
I want to die in the warmth
not the shadow--half living
half in peace like on the shore,
water pulling over me,
breath receding, a shy sexual encounter
shuddering on the weight of its pull
breathless from the loss it leaves,
until my eyes open into the white
of sun and like a dove
I sing slow a song bringing life.

posted by meg johnson @ Thursday, May 04, 2006