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.