it was a winters night
the air thick with cold
a thin veil of snow dancin its way to the the
the dead earth tangle of leaves and twisted vines
an odd echo follows her words
as the cold steals them off her sweet lips
it distracts from the meanings of her deity gazing argument
and i allow the conversation to die a fitful death at the hands
of her discomfort
wanting only to hold her hand
but denied by the harsh truths in her stance
by the tears she inflicts by proxy
we resume our walking with a silence between
like a rough thief his filthy hand on our hearts

the snow becomes heavy
and the taste of cold is bitter
she shivers as we reach her door
she pauses me in my distracted mumblings of fumblings
and invites me in with an odd voice unspoken
so we lay warming ourselves silently by the fire
watching it define itself with its own soul searching dance
she reaches out and takes my hand
and without a word begins to weep
i pull her to my arms troubled but not breaking the silence she keeps
like a fortress of shadows
like a dark army dressed all in black
become a funeral procession at war with itself

we did not say a single word to eachother that whole night
we made love there on the dusty carpet
and slept fitfully wrapped in eachothers needy arms
like two lost fearful minstrels wearing the same terrible tale in a mournful song
i can still hear it in the taste of her tears
when she was near her ****** she stopped and looked deep into my eyes
kissing me with such gentle hand
like forgiveness as the tears began to fall once again
we made love again and like the wine dried to the bottom of our well
we pushed it aside to find comforts in slumber
and eachothers nervously tender embraces

outside the snow fell like a soft mountain
deep and thick with its own tale of dark princes of night
deep and thick with its own tears of memory
somewhere in the distant mountains
a stranger run to the river to fetch water
trying to appease the fire that consumes his world
the shouts of desperate urge painted thick on this cold cold wind
disturbing our dreams

till the cold dawn broke the overcast with bright scorpions of sunlight
through the high windows
falling on the wine stained dark wood floor
where she had left a note for my waking minds confusions
and so she had fled my world
on the steam train headed north
headed back into the winter
leaving me in the windswept dunes
watching gulls swim in the winter sky
alone without words to heal
alone with just a aching memory of her body in my arms