Sun Walker

Bare feet burning,
black-top soul,
singing, singeing.
Hard, leather feet,
softer than shoes
and glass shards,
hard enough to move
and keep on burning,
as the Sun beats down
slow, passionate caresses,
concentric circles washing
away impurity.
Line upon line,
wave after wave,
each ray a Word
from the Lover’s hand,
pressed against my skin,
sending a steady, unrelenting
heat to my heart,
driving me up and out.
I dissolve when I walk in the Sun.

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