Liquid Carresse

By Debborah Jensen

To feel the liquid carress, upon over heated skin,

matting down my hair, open mouth lets it in.

Outside without apparel, from the sky it falls,

with orchestrated music and sycopated calls.

Lights, and drums resounding, faster the tempo beats,

My heart does match it, our climax finally peaks.

Then we come down softly, like a feather in the wind.

Till every thing is wet, and coated, resting once again.

How cleansing is the rain, during the oven times.

The naked dance of summer rain clarifies my mind.