Rising Touch

She swoons atop a berg There air water bullets On midnight's face cross low — While then besides the dark Brims in Gemini froze. She swoons atop a berg We try for scraps on ice. She is yours within me. Of these miles between us, This sea's the outer ring. She swoons atop a berg The Mercury has sank — Only a lichen's mum, A last bob underneath For Saturn's interlove. She swoons atop a berg Without a jogging stance To explain to us where — That midnight neither melts Air in ice, ice in air.