Wild Self
Light as a hummingbird
I flit between your faces,
turned upward toward the sun,
open to being seen
for the first time
in years.
You women of wonder
and wildness,
bodies washed by the sea and the night’s
cool rays,
souls exfoliated by beach stone
and barnacles.
Your eyes are unveiled,
your jaws and bellies soft.
You are receiving
and simultaneously giving
without effort,
with wisdom,
with a pace that is not attached
to whatever might happen next.
I delight in your transformation
and with my long tongue of attention
I taste your true essence
and vibrate my iridescent wings
so that your beauty reverberates back to you,
back in waves of warm reflection
and you inhale your own
wild self.