The Piece Between

Montana and Idaho

off I- 90, at a forgotten outlook

the dry heat crackles the brush, burns my skin until sliding into

deep green water soaking cotton underwear through,

river constantly tugging me away, to where, I don’t know

how far do you think we could float on our backs? where would we go?

to Idaho, then the sea

he says

a few wavelengths away, watching

pushing against the current my tired legs wrap around his chest.

hawks swoop, the sun smudges in smoky sky.

we weren’t lovers, but in that cool water, I’m not sure anymore.

I let the river pull me away before the urge to lick

water drops off his neck, tug through his wet hair

overwhelms me.

Paradise Beyond