tiny tinkling oceans,
chimes strike fresh, green, and new.
Soaking earth, mud, and milky colors,
taut skin on young feet, and dripping, hopeless black.
Flesh catches and slips, wet, perfect, and blue.
Heart thunder, forest secrets,
hands and moist lips strum and hum songs.
Drown me in hazy clouds; pulse pound the thunder,
and oh, the passionate bloom May has wrought.