At A Stillwater B&B

Sunshine on another's skin
   and parcels of untouched time
      to unstring at leisure, and lay
         across the snowy sheets.
Steam on the windows, crackled
   to frost – the only sign
      of the bite outside.  In here
         all is warm, soft and charmed.
He sleeps on, a bare shoulder
   glowing softly with the magic
      inherent in his skin, one
         enchanter's hand curled
            like a leaf
               at my cheek.

(C)1999 & 2014 by Rosetti C.
Translunary Things
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