With everything that streams
From your tresses to your shoulders,
As your tresses to your neck,
Everything golden about you
Is mine for the kissing.
With everything not meant to grieve
When I am with you.
With everything so firm and so amorous
Of your delicate aspects.
Kisses will stream
Upon your frozen lips,
For you have been in the cold, too long.
Too long in the cold, too long
Deep in Hell.
Can I kiss you,
Or will you flee?
Everything golden about you,
Is not meant to be in darkness.
