she was born of the cold north wind
she was a divine presence in sunlight
but she was a dark word softly slipping into the ear
not for malice but for her own fears
she thought me a chalice from which she could
sip the fine wine
and so she disrobed her outrageous contagion
and with a swiftly measured dance and desire taunting
she lay out the design of her entrapment
and enticed me to follow her into its sweet softness
because she had known desperation and hunger
and she had once sworn while huddled in the cold rain
that she would never succumb to the whims again
no malice in her intents just
one woman against the reckless world
just one soft creature of light in the foreboding desolation
so i sheltered her from the blistering cold of that winters night
and while the wind flayed the snow across the window
we spoke quietly deep into the night
before she without a word took me into her bed
offering without penance the alter of her divinity
surrendering without attached implications all her jewels
she was born of the cold north wind
but as she dressed in the morning and slipped out into the bright sunlight
i thought to myself she was more a home to the deep summer night
and its passions delights
i never did see her again
but i know that she thrives in some warm dream
she lay supple and young in my thoughts
as she did that night in my soul forever more
a goddess of light in the foreboding desolation
of a winters night