The Body is a Naked Fact

feet print wet on wood
charred sauna       leaks down
his chest
smolder red       sweat beads at his       upper lip

water plunges across faucet         explode clear
spiral over skeleton
suds descend   spine’s
                     curve
                       the way cars creep
                      at steep hills

he comes close squeezes blue gel into his hand
   staring at my back
it would take nothing   reaching out         to touch him

watching
   for certain lengths of time

       we stand
                   full frontal
  taking the body in

terry cloth then rubs
       down shins        hairs stand on end

dry my face to lift the towel
            opening up              to show him
watching each other stare
     sublime

standing Greek
     ancient anyone
anonymous and nude
breathing
        like marble