I
Up the mountain
Brown grasses rustle at my feet
Until they bend beneath the lusciousness of snow
I meet her at the temple
We are not at the peak
And the waterfall beneath us is frozen
I am sorry, love, that I made you shiver
My fingertips follow the downward drift
Shift, skirt, silks, your unbound hair
All things nest in winter
The grasses corded beneath the snow
My hand at the back of your neck
II
We need no fire
You have spread yourself open
You glisten like melted ice
Your writhing draws a map
I will be your ink-loaded brush
I make of you a waterfall
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