CoffeeShop Blues: 2015 Traveler's Edition - Page 69

Jeremy Frost where the evergreen branches bent low, weighed like snow shovels full of snow. The snow fell warm and light as we buried ourselves in the snowdrift. Pretending we lived in an igloo we were just crazy enough to lose our clothes and counted the rainbows in each unique snowflake. Your body glowed sweetly red as a plum against the white. The last time I saw you the Pacific Ocean couldn’t hold your thin and pliant body in its kelp bed, clear as crystal and green as emeralds. You exploded from the water like a shark with black hair beaching itself and collapsed on top of me. I drowned in the sand and your mouth was salty like the sea... your face burnt a hole in the sky. Now I spend my days counting clouds hurting to see you again. There seems an endless number of clouds. And in the night... I try until my mind bursts wishing fireflies back into a jar. 69