by Chris Davidson

I hope, beloved, not to despair.
Between deck and pool the path
Is not yet laid. Bare feet, sadness,
Such plenty: Keep your cool.
The ground beneath your reclined,
Reclining chair shifts thusly, like this.
It’s enough to want to kiss. I want.
Why don’t you? What prevents desire
From reaching to where your skin
Completes the body, making
Movement to another, to me,
Achievable action? Please,
Please without me asking, please.

*Photo courtesy lbontxo.