Poem by Ana Marcela Ramirez Cabal

A sticky sheath lays on my body,
All inches covered, isn’t it romantic?
Shadows fall short, I’ve become a residence,
For assertive guests so incandescent.

They drip and glow and stain and flow;
I don the wet as pines with snow.
Most claim this mist is punishment,
But flesh, adorned, is no ailment.

With every drop I feel release,
All stress and heat is turned to grease.