inhaling snowflakes, my breath sticks in the air.
and i smile, red lips death traps for iced rain,
licking the liquid from the sky. in the winter,
i never feel so warm, but the chill of the season
keeps me from faking connection, faking reality.
life is fake these days, when the clouds are silver
and the ground is white, when the wind howls
in shades of e flat, and children forget snowpants
and boots, allowing for wet socks. mothers cry,
because their babies are pink, and i'm still cold,
seeking fire in the eyes of another, arms open
to envelop the heart of some other person, a man
who longs to feel the heat of summer, and we warm
to the other, to the sun, letting the season tame us.