Starless Curls

She let her coal black curls down,
let her bleak tresses drop from
the braids and ribbons so formal.
 A deathly river flowing over
her cold, snowhite back,
draining into the cream sea of the bed.
 Her breath troubled, her skin cold
in this winter room, January solace,
as my fingers tentatively touched her.
 Lovers now, nothing left to lose,
naked in the hope of tenderness, warmth,
her let down hair the final surrender.
 I place my body against her back,
bury my face in those starless curls,
kiss her neck, feel her shudder and sigh.
 We climb under thin blankets,
and, turning to face me, she softly kisses me,
and then we become one flesh.

The snow falls on in the night,
the winds blows silently in moonlight,
and the sun fights it’s way back to the sky.

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