Walk this fever. It cannot be As severe As the weather, surrounding us In fog and bedsheets. Watcher. You look up to see The sun upon your face, As you cannot Turn away. Chestnut To raining tresses. Crystal to your smoothness, Though the seas will not calm. Carved breasts Stretch for the cup. Speaking smile with feathered words, Light in the drunk, arid air. I leave winter, for you. I enter summer, enter you, With a finger tracing your womb.