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.
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