Dear Water
Judith Brice

cerulean water,
slide over me now,
glide smooth—
let me swim

between your
drops,
take in
your rain-fresh
breath;

I will lace your lips
to my face—
drape your silver arms
warm
around my neck—

await then
your dew-sip
tongue to lick
my cheeks.

Let there be time;

dear water,

let there be time.

from Renditions in a Palette, 2013