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My Winter Muse

I've always dreamt of falling in love while gliding across a stream of crystal. So when the first snow fell and and the grass was stained white by the love of the sky's grace, and my city gleamed like the tundra of greens and reds that spring forward in the fall of winters mid-drift. I realized that this could be my chance. It doesn't have to last long, it doesn't have to last, but for that moment, two hours or two minutes, I could be in love as deep or as shallow as my blades in the ice, Holding her hips, taking in her smile. Eye to eye. Fingers to fingers. Bundled in the ripe heat of fascination street and kissing gloves with the benevolence of the northern lights .

-December 2013, David Marr III

Take your lips to mine, I'll ask you for a kiss, In the darkness of ten o'clock and sitting in anticipation of an undesired goodbye, You live like my swimming blood, swarming my heart as to bring saccharine oxygen to my incapacitated mind. Think of it, The Ice falling from the sky, Surrounded by the color of love, Can I take you with me? We can go sip the hot springs of Arkansas, Leading with our hands, Eyes locked, And your best foot forward. I'll mend your twisted ankles and carry your tired limbs. I'll caress your latent hips, and stroke the hair behind your ear just to get a better sight of the sky that sits in the Iris of your eyes, I'll risk my thumbs for the flat of your back and my palms for the pressure it takes to pull you as close to my ribs as I can. Then I'll breathe you in, my lungs will collapse from the sweetness and you'll exhale life into my pores. Then we'll stretch our potency. Then we'll tighten our senses. Lust. We'll lay watching canyons eating sunsets, And waterfalls devouring engraved stone, Like engraved gold for your wrist. and my cheek will know your forearm, And your shoulder will know my teeth, and your neck will know the shape of my tongue as well as your inner thighs do, straight thru to your navel, and around your rib lines, my fingers will fit, like a sophisticated glove, white leather with lace, like the ones they wore when body heat was the only form of radiator. We'll heat ourselves up by the fire place and I'll paint our memories as fluid as the patience you have with your body.

-December 2013, David Marr III