May 27, 2007

Hotcold

Ice cube sliding wet.
Shivers, a slick trail
opening in the light
spilled
from a streetlamp
outside.

Laughter. Ice
melting on tongue. Mouth
frozen. Laughter. Warmed.

Touches, like snowflakes
on water. Floating, swimming,
drowning, sputtering. Grabbing
breath, at last,
out of the white sky. A breath
like a throatful of ice,
smashing sharp. Rocks in the water. Please, please -

and safety. The gulls cry
me to sleep.

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