i long for the feeling that comes with winter. bathing in dusty lukewarm remembrances, i lift my hands from the depths, scattering snowdrops onto dimpled iceberg knees. subtle and skittering are my inquiries, wishing for the fog of mist to ride out on my breath as i expel expectations from their nests in the caverns of my mind. i fear the firecrackers set off by soft gold deities whose hazy smiles twist whirlpools in my resolve and shift their bodies to gushing leaks from rusting faucets. i will remember this hour as a whimsical profanity in a cage of water, and hope that your icy fingers unlock my glow, golden liquid dripping down my spine to rest in the imprint of your thumb.