on a dock at sunrise. Naked
& dripping, we feast.
Ducks float on the pond.
Males gleaming green.
Females not invisible,
but almost unseen
with their understated
elegance & secret fold
of purple feathers.
Across the pond,
trees glow golden. Soon,
we’ll also be alight.
Your hand on my thigh,
my mouth unfurling
like the pink of a water lily.
Nymphaeaceae float,
but are still tethered
below the surface; roots
pushing deep in the soil,
like your fingers sinking
into me.
Approaching
footfalls startle us
& we slip back
into swimsuits. Two men
sit on the opposite
side of the dock
& don’t even look
in our direction. Hips
touching, you whisper
into my ear: I could touch
you again right now
& they wouldn’t notice.
You slide my bottoms
aside & I don’t even try
to keep my breathing
smooth. We’re just two women;
part of the landscape.
& dripping, we feast.
Ducks float on the pond.
Males gleaming green.
Females not invisible,
but almost unseen
with their understated
elegance & secret fold
of purple feathers.
Across the pond,
trees glow golden. Soon,
we’ll also be alight.
Your hand on my thigh,
my mouth unfurling
like the pink of a water lily.
Nymphaeaceae float,
but are still tethered
below the surface; roots
pushing deep in the soil,
like your fingers sinking
into me.
Approaching
footfalls startle us
& we slip back
into swimsuits. Two men
sit on the opposite
side of the dock
& don’t even look
in our direction. Hips
touching, you whisper
into my ear: I could touch
you again right now
& they wouldn’t notice.
You slide my bottoms
aside & I don’t even try
to keep my breathing
smooth. We’re just two women;
part of the landscape.
Raina K. Puels is a queer/poly Boston-based writer, educator, and kinkster. She holds an MFA from Emerson College and reads poems for Split Lip Mag. You can find her writing published or forthcoming in The Rumpus, PANK, Dream Pop, and many other places listed on her website: rainakpuels.com. Follow her on Twitter: @rainakpuels.