Ice Sculpture

 
Ice Sculpture

     "Without warmth in this season,
     How do you think your fine mouth could exist?"
        from Geisha Considered as Making
        by Malinda Markham

I think of ice and the cold touch of your lips
pursed in an image, an ice sculpture
dripping only in the increasing light
you melting with my each realization.
A form in lack of warmth
becoming less with each steamy breath
as I flow in icy floes
cracked and jagged edges
tearing at each other
in a jolting tumble -- the inevitable splash.

Blue lipped, frosted face
you sparkle in the wind
still whispering to me
as I slowly, slowly sink
beneath the ice, beneath your kiss.