We lay entwined,
in a knot of limbs
deep
in our forest of curtains
white, and filtering sunbeams
into infinite flurries
that cover our bodies
with a blanket of snow.
We close our eyes
and try catching snowflakes
on our tongues,
but swallow pearls,
and form ivory lumps
in our throats.
Salt from our eyes
rolls on the
crinkled sheets.
The snow
melts on us and leaves us bare
but collects
on the curtains,
delicate
and laced,
stronger than ever before.