she whispers winter
in the land across the sea
she whispered winter deep
her roots planted, reaching, touching
bark and skin all mixed within
oil, splinters, the joy of feeling
naked prosperity, dripping leaves
seductively reproducing images of branches—arms,
nymphs of land, draped in white,
her marble hold, the kiss, the bite,
a touch of salted flakes upon my thigh,
foreplay in the deepest sense
inflamed with passion but still cold
the warmest embrace couldn’t shake the chill
and the haughty no-nonsense appeal it instilled
