At first the wind carried me,
catching my weary legs once crippled with worries
and careless whispers, now cradled by the warm breeze
and wrapped in the sweetest words.
I cannot remember the last time I uncovered this skin,
exposed it to sunlight, to movement, feet aching
from the walk across hard pavements and hill climbs.
Your hand on my bare thigh
takes me a moment to recognise it’s mine;
I watch in awe of the goosebumps that grow,
how our miracle bodies react to the cold,
bruised and scratched but satisfied.
Let me rest on this birch tree, exchange a smile
with the panting dog – he knows I know
what freedom feels like amongst the pines.
As do the birds, they haven’t stopped singing
since I stepped outdoors and their gentle presence follows me
like little Cupids,
arrows flying towards the soft lips of my new lover,
alone, as she speaks to herself.