we could be…

I.

wine-sweet kisses on a snowed in night,

letting winter linger in ice-sugar

snowdrifts, up against the door. let’s play

hooky with the rest of the city.

II.

poetry by the fire; I’ll read

aloud, but only if you play with my hair.

we can take it in turns to take the dog out;

I’ll lock the door if you get the lights.

III.

the wind whispering on the St. Lawrence,

promising spring but demanding

respect for the beauty of the cold.

open your arms for me, darling.

IV.

long-time lovers with a lasting spark,

refusing to allow familiarity

to steal the voltage we exchange

in our tender violent passions.