Over a mountain range of white-capped peaks,
A warm valley lake sits.
In naked splender, I go swimming.

However a stranger flies through the mois air,
Assesses the situation and swoops down.
Dressed in a lovely, pink birthday suit,
The stranger stands at the shore.

Splish, splash,
We frolic in the water.

The stranger becomes curious and decides to go exploring.
The stranger finds a place I know well.
Another valley with warm sooting water.

We travel in and out of the valleys.
No words are spoken . . .
Just two spirits dancing in the dark.

Penned by my hand on the 22nd of Mayan, in the year 285 AF.