eloping clouds

On our backs we lay watching the clouds tell improbable tales. We smoked and laughed, a blade of grass on our lips, our laughters mingling with the wind that swept over the brook. The mountain was full, calm horizon of granite, a gigantic tomb for us to linger on the pleasure of delay, the sweetness of the moment before giving into our mouths, our hands and our sexes confused, and the stretching liers of the clouds, eloping lovers. We felt alive in that stillness.

Sept 10