I sometimes imagine
two lovers, joined at the hip —
entangled, torsos, tripping
the light fantastic, repeating
choruses, chanting
the prayers of lovers
in the here and now,
unbridled lust ignoring doom.
Those who could not stand a life
of winter on a desolate beach,
they lived their lives,
seducing warmth.
Sudden, short lived
those ice age mummies
who idolized sun beams,
moon beams, sweet honey,
kissing lips, unaware
their hearts would one day
become ice cores, pierced
below snow laden daggers.
Transitions —
occurring suddenly
from warm invisible breath
tantalizing soft supple skin
to the last wisps of frozen
air, disappearing beneath a
frozen wasteland.