frost is a smokescreen of
fragility edged with
compromise in a warm breath.
knows defiance in
the smear of impatient hands,
forced warmth.

a blush on the cheek,
what lying under my skin.
what crackling in fractals.
cold or heat?
your touch or my want of it?

i streak across murky pretense,
pooling on the sill,
foggy white windows reflecting
shapes through which to
imagine an other you.


Posted by:jasmine

Jasmine is an editor, poet, and community arts organizer. She comes to poetry by way of Chinese music. This blog is a mapping of ways.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s