by Lisa

The crystalline moon
Pours a luminous shaker of pale
Tinsel over the dancing doily
Powder patterns
On this lover’s night in winter.
Such a shivery time
For the heat of this distraction.
But only the true fire of
Moment could prove itself worthy
For this tangoed treat.

Breath holds faster as
Outside the mercurial essence drops
But inside, a rise,
A sudden wind forces in the
Pumping life in the midst.
A tiny perfect icy wheel teases lips
Then rides the gust in.

All a bit of violation, a stop,
a half-cough at wonder at
this brrrrr that has come uninvited
Then poof and tickle
and the merging is quickly done.
A cold sweetness, feeling of alive
and a thought of “oh, cool”

With that, the frost-dusted butterfly
Was swooped in and through and
Is merged with the
Chorded voice of that life
And holds to the nightingale gently,
Constant, quenched,
and ever more
oceanic.