The snow came overnight and stripped all the colors from your sight.
Even the televisions lost technicolor.
It was all like it was before.
And everyone else rediscovered outside
while we explored inside,
below, then above, the old quilt.
Hands rubbing flesh like flicking sparks from flint.
Thawing out tongues pressed against icy appendages.
Hot breath pronouncing as smoke, in short
vaporized bursts.
Dragon breath lighting dormant pearls contained in shallow
hooded caverns.
Petals under the bottom retaing their flush.
WrittenCasey 