Orange Peels

A piece of my breath is still jumping across river rocks.  Some liquid spray of sunshine threatens to leap from my belly and escape these velvet curtains into the night.
 
We basked under the Sycamore trees.  I didn't even notice the battlewounds of the boulder scramble.  These thighs, these hands, they love the granite, every crevice and slick slant into water below.  And his shoulders glistened & his feet gripped the edges.  And the others laughed, voices tumbling down the canyon.  Soon enough, we gathered under the rustling leaves & orange peels fell from the flesh.  A dusty white moon in azure sky rewarded our efforts.  The waterfall's mist mingled with my skin's sweat.  And I felt glad.