Snowflakes and Warmth

At first it is a shy fluttering of lips
then breathing, a kiss like jasmine flowers
stroke of a pen (or hands?) in brass hair
souls meld, the stew of our spirits awaken
I’m holding onto his hands for my quaking life
trying to find gravity as I enter his orbit
the cavern of his heart is hung with roses,
ivy and oak, with sacred grottoes and springs
the pitter-patter of lime drops from stalactites
it’s just my soul of cottony feathers for his love
it’s just a moment, but like the tide, we press on
embracing and entwined, charting every crevasse,
necks are woody hollows and bellies full of fire
outside it is snowing, outside bells are glowing
inside we are simmering, inside we are glimmering
together we are endless, and sleep is an old widow
who beckons me away from him, into him, limitless-
I never knew divinity felt like snow melt spring.

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