Hibernating

11th

We fell through a second;
A snowflake not melting in our palms
But gliding, and sinking into spring
Dew drops that coat batting lashes, coquettish smiles

Above is something grim
A cloud I’d like to ignore,
To lower my eyes from;
But it chokes me with cigarette smoke,
And a sweeter smell
One that curls in the warmth of your pores
I envy these resting places
And that proximity to you