Bare-Faced Poem by James McLain

Bare-faced, I hand her the words.
Bare-faced, I give the thought to her.
The woman of the white cotton smiles,
rises and being at the edge of the pond
her upper body nude is correct,
the throat of that wrist of the moon
where sweet our damage escapes
and I confront to my lily bravely.
She and He escaped, I in stone,
made the water lavender quiet.
..........
The woman in white cotton smiles,
bare-chested rising and falling now.
Our tears running off neat and sweet.
The legs of his frog brave on the pad
of my, green lily wide.
He and I.
Even after,
over the stones the water runs off,
hushed, it is night.