Better Than Snow Poem by A Waltz For Zizi

Winter came with it's lazy snow
trapping us in our houses
on uncomfortable chairs
writing messages in smoke

pretending we are not us,
but lovers, into a gentle madness
where I touch your clear shoulders
and find their softness

unsafe for a kiss, where I tell my breath
to wait, afraid that I might blow you
like the smoke of a cigarette, and where
the sirens who sleep on your fingertips

move across so many of my ribs,
poking me with their silent smiles,
not knowing that I always keep
heavy things in my pockets,

so I don't get too carried away
and scratch my heartbeats
on the inside of your mouth,
as some form of sinning,

like the parts of you
I already know by taste.
Winter passed and then
your letters arrived late on me,

but of course I still tilted my head
way back and let the letters fall
into my mouth and dissolve on my tongue
like snow or something better.