The sun creeps up
and over
the balcony,
crouching
and
stretching
it's long fingers
toward my cheek.

I look away.

His rays
run headlong to the gray
and every nerve
inside my skin
reaches to hold you.

Your Long Winter,
has been hunting
me
all night.

The embrace is so cruel
and yet,
so fine.

We intersect
on the crystal planes
of each snowflake.

I close my eyes and taste the frost.

I dream of the long summers of childhood.

Lying in the grass,
humming
and
warm.

My father said
my people are of the north,
and I was born
for the love of winter
and war.

Your cold splinter bites my finger.
And my blood stains your white face.

Come hellbound or holy fury,
He has always been right.

05/02/2011

Posted on 05/02/2011
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