MISTS AND VAPOuRS

20 April 2018

hot springs, a holy place

a trinity of water-forms

billowing clouds

bubbling pots

and the snow,

laid out in a fine drizzle

upon sodden ground

toes squishing through muddy fields

to an outcrop of mineral mounds

waters wrapped around my body

precisely the way clothing isn’t

a process of sublimation begins

dissolving a little at the edges

I am turned from solid form

into steam,

mists and vapours

I languor a while, lost in a daydream

and then

I drape myself over the cool earth