I remember a summer morning,
we were lying in bed, in the sun, underneath the sheets,
after having made love.
Later we awoke, bathed in sweat,
slippery, warm and sleepyhorny.
Our heads were opposite of each other in the bed,
our feet in each other’s armpits. We were
moving underneath the sheets, in the sun,
until, finally, we melted.
Possible, even in that position, because we were wet
with sweat and lust. We were one. We were slow,
enclosed, unlimited movement. We were body.
Afterwards we slept on, in the sun, underneath the sheets,
with our feet in each other’s faces.