Click to enlarge.

It is a hot afternoon,
after days of summer rain.
In the river we take turns
holding each other afloat,
spinning around our lighter-than-normal
frames as if they were children's bodies;
splashing and playing
in the water, half in jest,
half erotic undercurrent.
Walking up the trail toward home
I follow you, watch your back
as it moves ahead of me,
notice where your hips begin,
the red and orange bathing suit
a bright splash of colour
against tall grass and green leaves.
Your back assumes its own shape,
not necessarily young or athletic,
but the way your body is,
flesh making a bulge near the waist
to form 'love handles,'
your legs plump with muscle,
your back sturdy—
anyone else seeing you
might consider there is nothing
beyond the ordinary
but as I follow you
your back takes on
the appeal of the extraordinary,
your body the one
I love, desire, long for.
On this hot afternoon,
a man's body
seen as in a Colville painting
and in my mind
illuminated with love,
with the intensity (strange
as it is among the everyday)
of passion, felt just hours ago,
when night drew the cover
of darkness, drawing us close.
So between the form I see
walking a few steps
in front of me, and the form
I carry in the mind's eye
there is a moment of revealed
clarity: this man, the back
I love to touch, the hot
summer afternoon, the visual
element of love, the unseen
mystery of it all.

Copyright by Carolyn Zonailo: www.carolynzonailo.com, 2004