Mermaids

Mireille is wading
through the lake, my smile
a beckoning finger.
Water laps against
threshing thighs,
splashing silver droplets
that sparkle like diamonds
in the damp bush
between her legs.

Limbs shimmer
darkly, her hair a waterfall
of auburn locks as
tiptoeing up
the greasy bank,
she bends over me and
wrings the wetness
from her soaking mane.

Face to face,
knees touching,
we lie still,
content in this silence,
drying our bodies
in the simmering heat,
like two beached
mermaids basking
at the water’s edge.