I am not
The small embedded stone
On the bend
Of the dirt-track lane
I am not
The loose canon of a pebble
Implanted on the wall
Of the waterfront
I am not
The droplet of salt-water
Immersed in the waves
Of the ebb and flow
I am not
The breath of fresh air
Entrained within the zephyr
Of the four winds
I am the mind
Also I am the body
Happy in its own skin
Pleased to share these words with you
Those Zen like stripes
Pressed into the back
Of my bathing robe
Suggest to the outside world
A body which carries calm
With a good deal of ease
To the inner self
The indentations
Are in the worn fabric
A template of bars
For the soul
To willingly attempt to climb
Between the outer
And the inner, there is
A place for transformation
A skin
Which holds onto
Which sensually feels one other’s skin
Today I relax first
I go straight
To sit in the courtyard
The sauna
With 100 beads of sweat
Will come later
The steam room
With no way of knowing the time
Will come later
The jacuzzi
In the indoor-outdoor pool
Will come later
The aromatherapy
Scented shower with all round spray
Will come later
I can’t imagine
How much sex we might have shared
In the sea
On the shore
In the boudoir
In the bedroom
Always the call-out was for more
I can’t quite say
Why heat made me behave this way
In the time
In the place
On the case
Joining the race
Always the call-out was for more
I am thoroughly exposed
Opened to the sexuality, moved off the chaste
On the sands
On the dunes
Climbing the heights
Singing the tunes
Always the call-out was for more
