how grim, to love a poet!

how maddening: the cold, the heat.

the grey-thick cotton gods above,
like skin to protect my sweet earth from burning blaze.

from burning tongue, agitated heart -
only a brief candle when first your eyes met mine,
and out leapt sparks to build bonfire hearts.

let me not consume you, you cold-water thing;
you laughing devil, you iron-boned angel:
let me cool my head in your arctic breast