Because It Snowed Once, Is It Love - Poem by James McLain

Because it snowed once
is love in and out, it's up and down;
It started there where I'm not any more;
Hiding your face behind a closed window
looking through the drapes that you opened;
Not all of it to me was love, where you
asked me
to do those things those many things
to you that caused me nothing
but pleasure, just to hear your moans;
With it love could be the very thing that you
used to plug the leaking
dyke by your using my head to figure it out;
Down stairs walking up
on the wooden floor using each step that
you hear
to judge how close I am to that rising fear;
Love here in the deep south
where each night becomes even more fluid
when the low hanging fruit
is even closer to me than it was the night before;
If love was meant to be tasted
and made even better with strong scented drink;
And I tasted as I stated, you loved as I went
and I meant was it love or that other;
But was it love when you slept and I sleepy came
back to your bed
and covered your face in what now
were your dreams;
Wading knee deep in white powdered snow
it just might be pearl's, I do not know;