by Shabnam Nadiya

I look through her eyes
   into the world within her
   this young girl open like a flower
   open at a certain page
   to be read so easily.
   She blinks
   holding the moment, holding it still.
   
   I can feel a single pearl of sweat
   lazing it’s way down between my breasts
   (like wet moonlight,
   slithering through a rice-field heavy with birth)
   I can feel its tang in my mouth
   as I watch her.
   
   Her thighs, long legs,
   the hue of mud
   -- earth made mud by splashy heavy rain --
   mud that glistens rich, fertile
   mud that spawns the desire to wallow within.
   
   A brown face
   (so fresh, I can still taste the dew from here).
   A candid gaze that routes its way within to the seabed
   that rustles restless within.
   Upper lip beaded with sweatdew
   (I taste the salt on my tongue again)
   
   Waiting for the rains
   I dream sea dreams in this thick summer heat.
   
   Originally published in the Asia Literary Review (Hong Kong),
   Vol. 2, Summer 2006.