You In Sunlight(For Frieda Rose)

The dust motes look startled! Floating invisibly one moment then caught in a sumbeam the next like convicts caught in a jailbreak. They dance before me delightful in themselves above the fluffy towel with which you have just dried your delicious self & left forgotten on the floor. I pick up after you (as always) stand there surrounded by dust motes like alien creatures this the dead skin of you furiously flaked off in your drying but still beloved to me remembering how it was when I kissed it on naked arm...bum or thigh and how it made me sigh then and sigh even now passing through this dust cloud of you loving every little bit of you.