promise me infinity

a frost nymph devoured the periwinkle sun,
taking a bite out of yesterday
with its cold fangs

and dust pixies traced our names
in the clouds with the tips
of their elfin fingers

but
just like in dreams,
the midnight zephyr blew
them away

because
when you swallowed the paraffin stars
just to incarcerate the shipwrecked
moonlight inside a sugar cookie jar,

your madapple lips bled like magdalene
roses drenched in the nightshade rain,
their petals resembling a cut vein

and as your mouth sparked, burned
and sputtered summer's ashes upon
the earth buried in snow,

december still felt like our last dance
in the storm to autumn's unfinished
symphony of falling leaves

so
we lay here on the ground, our smoke and
mirrors love forever etched in the
damage of poetry wrapped in
winter's blasphemy

.
.
.