Siberian Winters/You

Siberian winters have nothing on my love

Run, my love, for the dark queen has her eye

On you, casting her spell from above

Wicked on a dusty throne, deep sigh

And moan

From molding corners

Creaking wood and melting jade

Rotting velvet and stained silk

She awakes

Ruminating on centuries old marble and

Stained glass, decaying gold, and

Creaking bones, night falls and you are not

Alone in these halls for long

She hungers and knows you wait

Your scent a barely ripe fruit

Honeysuckle to the gods

Running our games through an old palace

She knows these too well and waits

For you to settle

So she can begin

Give to me of you and let me

Know your taste

Let me touch you

Let me feel you

Because when the clock chimes

You will be mine

Gravity and Cigarette Burns

Your touch sends me into shudders

There is something in the way that you look at me that reminds of typhoons

Salt water and vinegar course through your veins

Ice under the skin and there is something to be said about Siberian winters that births hardness

But there you stand

Hands to pockets and a juvenile smile

Callow smile and shark eyes

Youth and gladness lost in burn marks

The ice has not taken hold just yet

Give to me of yourself and break apart

I want to give you the planets and their gravity

Let me take you down, follow me down into the dark

I will spread light from my finger tips and cast it into your cold corners

Give me of yourself

And I will give you atoms to use as stepping stones

to your destiny past your

Fear that smells of metal and rust

But in the years to come, when you've wiped it away

And age has ingrained itself on your brow

I will be waiting

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Here is a confession:

I happily stay in a nuclear winter where I can love you from afar

Because when we are close

I die

I can’t find my tongue

When I look at you

Roads and airplanes can’t bring me down

I can feel the ice breaking in these veins

You are my truth