Women Making

laughing, nature slips
coyly into rain. Curls her
toes like lip of fern, legs
frustrated by ample bosom.

contortion disguises like
embalmed glasses; lust-wave
coaxes inconsistent sands.

watch careful mirror of eye,
thick storm of voice. Sounds
which fall vacant, lost within
her womb.

she follows inside
through impact, joins
unto many. creates

(without credit)

an ocean.

- Megan Pacheo