The two women could be sisters
sitting with heads bowed, foreheads almost
touching in svelte sensuality,
sweat on temples plaid with dark hair.
Sun on the water,
darkness with light,
a sluice of rays tucked into the bones of noon
staining brows and hands.
One holds a baby to her white breast,
bird-like in its taut need,
knotted fists stroking skin and air,
embalmed in downy arms and pinwheels
of declining morning.
The chopped blue tide looks on.
© Dianne Touchell 2021
Painting © Galya Stambolieva