August 24

I wriggled underneath powerful palms

She banished my knots with her masseuse charms

A fire burned politely, casting warmth from the floor

The tickling had me in endless motion like a saloon door

And yet there was calmness, an aroma soaking through

It rested on my body like the morning dew

When I opened my eyes the world was still there

But I had shifted slightly, breathing a fresher air