skin learns soil
with a naivete of nerve
swirling paths in rich cocoa
stubby fingers, toy cars

skin proceeds to smolder
with no preamble
a blinking look about
a white-hot army of questions

skin knows breath
as the fires slowly diminish
we open our eyes in the street
we flex our claws and build

skin meets tide
in all its fickle glory
fashionably late
two hours early