She ran faster.
She had animal grace
and thighs like sea-swell.
It would be much later that
we would think of
them without innocence.
She was irresistible.
She burned in us like fever.
Caught the sun the way
a leaping fish might.
It’s been 40 years since she
first swam into view,
and still she comes alive here,
under the shaky ministrations
of my fingers, mounting like
a flame, a way to love.