Naked

Naked
we sat on the edge of the wooden dock and silently slipped our white moonlit forms into the water
cold wasn't the first thing we felt - it was the wet, and the shock of water on skin, in crevices -
refreshing,
then cold.
we floated, four fish without scales or fins or gills - loons, really.
we made our loon calls in the dark and waited for answers from across the pond