Kibes now to share inside white cold wind,
under our blankie with cold red toes moist
dancing a little, neat a coverlet in hot mind
to bring your winter soul into forecast joys.
Put your toes into my summer wet palms,
your spring doubts in pastures dewy green-
sweet soul music says I ain't no fool. Warm,
a pesky vortex swirls in our sole jet stream.
We're fucked into a frigid reality, but not here
because here there is skin, chilblains & healing
by the silken autumn steam of hands gone sere.
Yummy! Red into wet white again with feeling.
High pressure swirls mostly north to mostly
south. Just turn your face and kiss my mouth.