Nudity on the Flats
It is where dreams begin. Nude summer days drift colorlessly by. A parade of fleshly freedom on the Flats. You can feel the warm sand, crunching under your feet as you walk to the next pool. Burning.
A magpie is chirping, or whatever the hell it is that they do, hidden in a poplar. Scolding the ones who defiled the beach with their clothes. Dreams and lovers fall into place here on the Flats. A walk down, bathing in a pool, so cool, delightful. We are the only ones in this universe. Our gifts are to each other.
I was wondering if you remembered? I was wondering if you remember the walk along Jericho? I was wondering if you remembered the Egyptian nights we ran as fugitives from Akhenaten’s court?
Yoda pulled my finger too hard I think. Send your pictures of the Flats. Send your pictures of soft summer days…