Friday, August 31, 2012

Socrates

"The hottest love
Has the coldest end."
Said from the first drop of grain
In an hourglass full of sand.

So, that explains the
Fogged mirrors in a room,
And the bed with no covers,
Soaking wet brows, and red panting bodies 
As the winter blew through open windows.

And explains, now
Clear reflections from the
Icy moisture-glazed eyes
Goosebumps and shivering body
While the heat wave should be drowning.