No one in the world will ever know how
we swarm two bodies as one through rippling
shadows this night, the vast lake possessed now
only by our shivering selves. Crippling
cold should command us to cabin’s shelter,
yet we challenge fate as only lovers
crazed in disenchanting nature. Tell her
our burning torsos crave nurture’s cover
found in each other and her frigid flesh.
Tell her we sing through torrid breath of night,
of flaming moon, of stars etching dark mesh
of cosmos with our sacred names and flights
of souls who follow. Tell her she once knew
passion and it rises. Tell her thank you.
Roger Armbrust
November 30,
2012
