Floating en el Canto de tu Nombre

Buried beneath the water, the cold stings against my skin,
needles biting into me as the forest I’m hiding in quietly wakes.
The morning blue is thin, but with only my face above water,
the crisp air nips at the tip of my nose, the contours of my lips.
A frosty breeze that skims across the still water fills my mouth,
chilling my teeth, and filling my lungs with a burning cold.

 

And then the first strands of sunrise trickle through the leaves,
with warmth so slow but surprising as it spreads across my face
that I gasp for air. It’s an intake of your name, and again, and again
as the breath continues to escape me in shallow huffs. Still, I remain,
and my body warms, from the tips of my fingers first, up the soft
bends of my elbows until it blooms across my chest. Then quickly
down my stomach and thighs, and suddenly I’m shocked upright,
my body thrumming with the thought of you in my pulse.

 

Skin now exposed to the frigid air, I feel everything:
the pebbles digging into the soles of my feet
the hair raised all over my body
you, you, you, you, you

 

constantly, you.