The Sun

Ah, that warm afternoon in March!
When you take off your socks and
Tip-toe across marble floors,
Through the doorway; out to the sun.
And you tip-toe, once again; quick on your burning feet.

And how it glistened, how it shivered with that playful blow of wind;
Desire in its simplest form.
And you, with your trickling crimson flush;
Thrust yourself into the water
and
Surrender.

Helios, don't you know?
All she ever wanted was to melt into the sun.