I lace my fingers
with the snowy night
as I rest upon
carmine linen and lilies,
my hand out of
the window,
wet snowflakes caressing this
open palm of mine

with heavens I speak
of slumbering spring and
your name and how
both of you see
my stars, my peonies,
yet you
hide yours from this
open palm of mine

I lace my fingers
with the snowy night,
for I am weary
of you and winter
my hand out of
the window,
wet snowflakes soothing this
open palm of mine

I dream of rivers
and that sparkle of theirs
sleeping upon sunlit waterlilies

my eyes sink into
that shimmering night of mine
and there I see
yours darling as sin
unsure of what to do
unblinking, wishful, gazing into mine

have I darkened them?
that tenderness within them
tell me, was it my doing?

drowsy river droplets kiss
that throat of yours
like I crave to

I dream of rivers
and that singing voice
of theirs lulling me
deeper into my slumber

the sun sets into
that gentle pomegranate color
of your unholy mouth
as you avert your gaze
then turn it back
and you speak about my
stars while you think
I am aware not
of it but I turn
in my sleep and
I shine brighter than
your foolish infatuation and
my eyes sink deeper
into the night of mine

I am a river
and that gaze of yours
will not halt my flow

I crave to sing
in that forest of your
heart but then sweetly
I remember mine is starlit