S. L. Gore

mi Dansk

mi Dansk

long limbs lightly bronzed by the sun, stretching, twisting, moving together
damp flesh, long chestnut waves perfumed by the sweet smell…
deep cries, the sweet sound…
of our rhythm

there were long spaces of quiet, of touching, of holding, of flowing
slightly closed, holding back, knowing joy yet feeling fear
perhaps of change
of letting in and going in
of inner secrets yet untouched

not easy to be fresh with so much before
with a history of ends, to believe in beginnings
faces of the past
emotions living still, stirring, slipping back in the wake of the new tide.

Managua, Nicaragua
April 1, 1973