Saturday, February 26, 2011

Snowy Love

Snowy love.
It's a cold hand to hold.
Yours is the hand
that hands it on, chilled, and
poured over ice.
the glass' edge cusped with
The drip drip.
The icy dew.

On winter's nights,
yours is the hand
that holds mine tight.
veins pulsing with
frozen vodka,
a popsicle concoction.

Chilled hands.
Frozen feet.
The two short covers.
One might think,
you cut it short on purpose.
Just to see the icy sweat
freeze along my spine.