amidst
snowflakes
we tread upon
ice sheets
towards a ghostly
cabin
in the corner of
a clearing,
enticed by
pluming smokestacks,
its front
door.,
forever open.
abstract
the whoosh of
shadows
from not quite beyond
the senses
assure that i
am ever
seen.
icing sugar powders
window-
lips blow
clearing glass,
as it fogs up
before my
eyes,
she claim clouds
don’t last.
gently grasp my
hand
and drag me
back
to where our sweet
spills freely,
in light of deep
trust–
where we talk through
thoughts that
plague
us.
a pill for
grief
rests on a table,
in a cup,
poured into
a hand
in the center of
a room
where no one feels
a thing.
i watched as steam
rose from your
palms–
extended towards
the void
and knew you had summoned life
from beyond any myth
we had learned.
like top shelf chocolate
dripping on the
tongue,
i’ve tasted
dark
and wanted
more
to coat my mouth in
velvet warmth,
to quell all future
cravings.
a
kiss
breaks up the
fight
like pink doves
landing
in the middle of
a minefield
as temporary
truce.
crystals twinkling
on boughs,
my face breathing
frost..
all over the
room,
as dawn appears
dazzling
to thaw us from
tomb.
her head filled the
pillow with
dream
and her body remembered
the running
her lips,
the moisture–
soothed by the scent of
an ethereal
lover
while resting
covered.
hands in the garden 
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