I will write you letters this winter

I will write you letters this winter
When the snow falls and the fire crackles
I will race over those alphabets
Lingering on ones I felt
When I stood under the warm sluicing water
and you were mist across the shower of rain
I caught a glimpse of you in the golden sunlight
outside the deep green curtains.
I will hold you in coherent coincidences
And I will refuse to turn the page
I will sit with mulled words and live in exuberant summers
When the ascending spirals of smoke groan wet
Ebbing away the sensation that leaped up the chimney
I will know you were hanging on to the soot.
You were holding on and clinging to my roof.
I will look at you as tenderly as the moon
Looks at the frozen icicles that remain on the branches
When every living room will be swarming with unions and laughter
This Christmas
I will write you letters under the mistletoe
I will not proliferate or pluck my history from yours
I will let my now and then merge in yours
I will not let the distance long or throb
I will let us squeeze and snuggle into a poem
When passion will river on my soft swollen syllables
I will unfasten the violet from my ink
and spill all over you,on and again

I will write you letters till the winter ends.