We'd often
been included in
the weather, whose
changes (as in the

still, portending
darknesses of after

noon) were hardly
evident, if even
manifest at all.
The August rain

over Mixcoac
& the deadening
of all aspect
at a distance:

yet our sudden
wet bodies, firm
swelling divested
finally of shirts

& trousers, left
beside turbid
footprints on
the tiled floor;

this tongue, these
lips the lightning
over the unchartered
landscape of your

thigh: successive
terra nova to
resist the still
life of the body