The River

It was years ago she and I sought the river thinking I was her lover she already had a lover the camp fire was lit the crickets were singing we were baptized in the river her sleeping breasts were awakened opening to the moonlit sky two pieces of fine porcelain river garden lit foliage much like the Spanish moss hanging from the trees as far down from the river a horizon of dogs were barking We picked wildflowers strolled up the river stream I kissed her dark wet hair made a hollow wish in the sand she removed her dress I my wet pants and shirt her skin mother of pearl her thighs swam away from me like shoals of startled fish I was half cold I was half on fire we ran into the still night down long dirt roads mounted on starlit mares The southern gentleman I am will not reveal that which was whispered this night being a discreet affair sealed with river sand and kisses we made promises in the night among the fragrant wild flowers that battled the summer air Perhaps we behaved like gypsies I gave her a basket of fruit covered with a purple silk linen she did not ask where the river came from or where it was going she knew it had no past or future I did not fall in love she already had a lover she told me different before we sought refuge at the river....