2.18.2008

Fall.

I sit
slightly comforted
by the soft snapping of melting snow.
A brush of invisible flakes
tease
my uncovered flesh.
You slip into thought--
our dance loosens my chilled lips
Exhilaraton grows
like orange and magenta
reaching around peaks
of distant mountains.
Your hands protrude like bare
limbs topped with pure
WHITE
I know you're wanting me
TONIGHT.

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