Winter is my wisdom,
My horror and my way.
Little kisses are there to land, themselves
Upon your long and gifted neck,
That I admire to its porcelain texture.
I am enamored by you, and all the despair you throw out,
To your naked feet.
Beautiful creature of all my savage wisdom,
I will kiss you, until the end of every new tomorrow.
You have lashes alike the bared twigs upon the winter tree,
As its branches are much alike
Your hands with branching veins.
You have eyes that are alike
The moon above the lake, waving its luminescence
Upon the frozen waters,
And I am nuptial in your gaze,
Your gaze of amorous fear.
Nine times, we cry with faces so alike the children at our feet.
They pule, too, with masks showing all innocence
That could ever be noticed, of them.
You desire more, do you?
Little lady of a void, who has formed a hole in my swollen heart,
We’ll come crashing like waves that were separated,
By the moon above that split apart,
So evenly that it wished itself, again, to come together.
What is the mask that you make,
During when I kiss the throat that has frozen, itself?
Your throat, with ivory texture and blue-watered veins,
What is the disease that you break
For me to enjoy in its tempestuous motion, upon my weathered tongue?
We are crowned by guilt,
In this love, for a heart we’ve filled.