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.
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