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
