i make up motion&charge the very air. 
my legs rub together. my bare feet stomp. 
i am groundswell. i play with currents
that foretell the gathering of a storm
on a far-off scrap of land. 
palm trees bend nearly in half. 
i have their rapt attention. 
oh, what i am capable of! 
i can sink fishing boats. 

bigger than weather, i am now
the rumble in the earth, 
undulating belly, self-consciousness submerged, 
adorned with its perennial debris: 
lily behind one ear, grass anklet, 
leis, leis, leis. 
i feel the surge through my feet. 
oh, what a rush! 
the lava i hide. 

the skin i show, 
the skirt handmade&tropical, 
hothouse blooms the slit up my thigh. 
arms, legs, long, dune back
do not yet speak pudenda. 
it is hawaii day. 
i am entertainment. 

© Tori Grant Welhouse