Poetry is so corny.

[lyreoforpheus]

I scribbled this out while I was waiting for Jake to finish his quiz for Mrs. Comstock. Snow puts me in such a mood.

come and play with me in the snow -
we'll freeze and roll and build
and breathe and tunnel below
'till our numbed rosy cheeks with blood are filled

i'll warm my face with your chilly hands
and lick your salty frozen tears
we'll pretend to be rulers of wintry lands
and ignore the passing of the years

i'll push you into drifts and pelt you with powder
abusively genuine juvenile affections

stare up at the sky in our angel shaped ditches
side by side
and listen to the music of snowflakes falling
a stainless symphonic testament
to us

the day might peak and the snow might melt,
but we'll play along and melt as well
rapturous liquefaction; speaking through ripples
and waves
sloshing together indistinguishably

cold, bleak night will come --
but don't worry.
oh please don't worry when it's dark outside.
we'll simply congeal, assimilating into
a frozen quintessence
pristine and reflective and ageless

so come and play
there's nothing to lose but yourself
a very small price to pay, i think
for us